Take Me As I Am Seasons 1 & 2
by JewWitch
Summary: The incredibly true adventures of Quinn and Rachel, starting from Sectionals Season 1. It's just like watching the show, if Faberry were the central couple and everything revolved around them! Brittana & Klaine co-star in supporting roles.
1. Endings and Beginnings

Hey Faberry fans!

It's been just over a year since I started this story…little did I know back then that it would become the MOST EPIC story I have ever written! So since it just occurred to me that someone reading chapter 1 as of today (late season 2, or beyond) might find a quick intro helpful, so you'll know where we're starting.

So here you go: Chapter 1 starts on the bus ride back from Sectionals, Season 1. So Finn just found out that the baby isn't his, and Quinn is briefly living out of her car when Rachel swoops in on her white horse and makes everything better. From there, the rest of this endless fluffy tale is basically a loose following of the show, and how it would be if Faberry actually WAS canon…as it obviously should be, because Lea and Dianna cannot keep their freakin' hands off each other, and they have the most delicious, overpowering chemistry of anyone on the cast!

As a final note, there are a few M-rated chapters scattered in here, but they are all appropriately labeled. Thus endeth the introduction. Enjoy the show, kiddies!

**Take Me As I Am**

**A Faberry Fic!**

**By JewWitch**

**Chapter 1**

…

Everyone was buzzed on the bus ride home from Sectionals, flushed with their first win and the evidence: a giant trophy sitting propped on the seat behind the driver, that went all the way to the ceiling. Finn's return to the Glee club, and his last-minute heroics that everyone knew made them win, was cranking up the manically good mood on the bus, and they sang and laughed and bounced up and down on their seats all the way home.

All except Quinn. She sat alone in a back corner, head leaning against the window. Her hands rested lightly over her baby bump, rubbing lightly, as if trying to reassure her unborn child that it was all gonna be okay. She'd find a place to live, some way to take care of herself—take care of them both—until the little angel curled up inside her was born, and finally got the chance to have a real family, one who could promise her things that Quinn knew she never could. She didn't even realize she was crying until a whisper-soft touch stroked away the tears streaming down her cheek.

"What's the matter?" Rachel asked quietly, more quietly than Quinn had ever heard her speak before. She didn't understand why the dark-haired girl continued to be so nice to her, every chance she got, when the ex-cheerleader had never given her anything but grief. Every chance _she_ got. Right now, though, the impulse to reply with some cruel and biting retort died in her throat. She was too full of sadness already; she couldn't stand to cause any more, and she didn't want to see that pained expression of surprise in Rachel's eyes that she was so good at producing with her malicious insults. But she didn't want Rachel's pity, either.

"Nothing. It's just hormones," Quinn replied quietly, wiping the tears from her face far more roughly than Rachel had. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Quinn. You can't help it," Rachel replied, keeping her voice low so no one else heard over the raucous singing. Then the dark-haired girl reached out, and hesitantly wrapped an arm around the crying girl, squeezing her shoulder lightly. To her great surprise, Quinn dropped her head onto Rachel's shoulder, her loose blonde hair spilling over and grazing against Rachel's collarbone. The dark-haired girl tensed nervously for a moment, until she felt Quinn starting to shake with silent sobs, and the awkwardness of the strange moment was broken. Rachel tightened her grip, squeezing Quinn a little closer against her and turning to kiss the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispered again, turning her face into Rachel's shoulder so her tears soaked into the other girl's shirt. She wasn't just talking about this moment, but everything.

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel murmured back. There was such understanding in her voice, the blonde girl wondered if it was possible that _she_ was talking about everything, too.

The quiet, peaceful moment between the two girls was broken when Mercedes glanced back and raised an eyebrow at their intimate position in the back of the bus, and Quinn's head shot up from Rachel's shoulder, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Can you go now?" She asked bluntly, though not unkindly. "I think I just need to be alone." Rachel nodded, looking sad now, too, though for once Quinn didn't think she'd said anything to cause it; it was more like the dark-haired girl was absorbing some of Quinn's heavy heart, trying to carry it for her. It was an insane thought, one that Quinn was quickly able to dismiss once she was sitting alone again. No one else spoke to her the rest of the ride home, and when they all got off the bus and ran to meet their families, no one seemed to notice the blonde girl walking off alone toward her car, parked in the far corner of the lot, and not turning on the engine once she got in.

She had never intended to let this happen, living out of her car; but then again, she had never intended to let _any _of this happen. She knew that Brittney or Santana would probably take her in if she asked; but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd already been kicked out of her own home, and then her ex-boyfriend's when he found out the baby wasn't really his. She couldn't bear to be anywhere else she wasn't wanted. And it wasn't as if they'd offered, or even asked if she was alright. _Like Rachel did_, she thought fleetingly, before quickly shoving the thought to the back of her brain.

She still didn't have any answers for how she was going to get through this; but she knew she had to figure it out on her own. She certainly wasn't going to live in her car forever, but for now, she was managing. It was what it was. She would get through it. She would do whatever she had to do for the innocent little life that was, for now, in her care alone.

"Quinn?" Though the knock on her car window was very soft, and the voice calling her name very hesitant, the blonde girl gasped and jumped up from her reclining position against the seat, as if someone had just shouted right in her ear.

"Jesus, Rachel!" She panted, a flash of fury passing briefly through her eyes before being replaced by something warm and fragile, and hard to name. The dark eyes locked on her own seemed to soften at the same moment, and Quinn wondered if the other girl was realizing the same thing she just had—that for the first time, she'd called the dark-haired girl by her actual name. Not "man-hands," not "RuPaul," not even "Berry," like they were in the army or something. Just Rachel. Where had that come from?

"Sorry I scared you," the other girl continued, maintaining the same gentle voice she'd used on the bus. "I just—can I talk to you for a sec?" Quinn blinked bemusedly, then with a sigh, she unlocked her passenger side door and let the shorter girl into her car.

"What is it?" She asked wearily.

"I…well, I don't really know how to ask this…" Rachel was looking at her so oddly, biting her lower lip as she tried to say whatever it was she was trying to say, though Quinn was suddenly preoccupied with just how soft and full that lip was. How had she never noticed before? Again, the blonde girl grabbed the thought and pushed it forcefully into the back of her mind, along with the fluttery feeling churning around in her stomach. "Quinn—are you sleeping in your car?"

"What do you care? You got what you wanted." The ex-cheerleader replied coldly, some of the old venom sneaking back into her voice as her defensive instincts took over. She didn't want to be pitied by anyone, least off all a loser like Rachel fucking Berry. She was a joke. She was nothing. Why was she still looking at Quinn like that, with those big Bambi eyes?

"No I didn't," Rachel said slowly, finally looking down at her hands as Quinn's sharp hazel gaze bored into her own. "I mean I—thought I did, but…I never wanted this, Quinn. I never wanted you to have nowhere to live."

"Well congrats, you just racked up some bonus points," Quinn retorted sarcastically, unable to stop the familiar cruelty slipping into her voice when she felt so vulnerable.

"Come stay at my place," Rachel blurted out, still staring down at her hands so she didn't see Quinn's frozen, shocked expression. She finally looked up when a full minute passed without the blonde girl saying anything. The utterly confused expression on the other girl's face made Rachel break out of her own awkwardness, and she reached out bravely for the other's girl hand, squeezing her fingers. "Please, Quinn. I already asked my dads if it was okay. We want you to come stay with us, for as long as you need."

"Are you high?" Quinn snapped, jerking her hand back from the other girl's warm grip, and instantly regretting it. "What on earth would make you think I'd want to live with you, huh Berry?" Rachel looked right into Quinn's eyes, both of them floundering between hurt and hope.

"I…just thought it would be better than sleeping in the back seat of a subcompact," the dark-haired girl said softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she looked down at her hands again. "You can't keep this up much longer; you must know that. It's getting colder every night. You're gonna make yourself sick…it isn't good for the baby." It was a low blow, but it got Quinn's attention. No matter how confused she might be about, well, everything in her life right now, here was one thing she couldn't ignore: what was best for her baby. And clearly, right now, Rachel's offer was it.

"Fine. I mean…thank you." Quinn smiled tentatively, looking embarrassed again.

"You're welcome," Rachel smiled back broadly, causing the fluttery feeling in Quinn's stomach to erupt again. What the hell? "Well c'mon, my dads are waiting for us." Quinn nodded and started the car, knowing for the first time in over a week that she actually had someplace to go.

…

The Berry house wasn't quite as nice as Quinn's parents', if you were judging purely based on money; but it had a comfortable, lived-in feeling that the Fabray house had always lacked, and it smelled like fresh-baked cookies. Quinn instantly felt at home, and when Rachel's two dads welcomed her in, she knew they meant it, though she still couldn't fathom why. Rachel showed her to the guest room (though she referred to it as "your room" when she showed the blonde girl in) and then immediately left her alone to "settle in," though Quinn found herself wishing, for whatever reason, that the other girl would stay. She unpacked quickly—she didn't have much, as her parents had given her so little time to pack when they'd kicked her out—and then curled up on the bed, which was very comfortable, and cried quietly until her head pounded and her nose ran. She probably would've cried herself to sleep eventually, if not for the soft knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Rachel's voice asked hesitantly from the other side.

"It's your house," Quinn replied dully.

"It's your room," Rachel countered, making no move to open the door.

"Fine, come in," Quinn sighed wearily. She didn't really want Rachel to see her like this, red-eyed and pathetic; but she supposed that it couldn't be helped anymore. And as soon as the dark-haired girl came into view, smiling gently and bearing a tray of milk and cookies, Quinn felt the sadness inside her starting to lose its grip. None of this made any sense, but she was too exhausted to keep pushing the other girl's kindness away. Not when she was standing there with honest-to-God milk and cookies, and smiling at her like things had always been this way.

"I thought you might like a little bedtime snack," Rachel offered, sitting hesitantly on the end of Quinn's bed and putting the tray down on the blanket between them. "They're fresh from the oven. My dad Jacob loves to bake."

"Thadks," Quinn sniffed, blushing a little when she realized how stuffy her voice sounded from crying. Rachel reached over and passed her a tissue from the bedside table without saying anything. Quinn took it and quickly wiped her eyes and blew her nose, turning away from the other girl.

"You're the only person I know who gets embarrassed about crying," Rachel said suddenly, apparently out of nowhere. "You really shouldn't be. It's perfectly natural to let your feelings out…and God knows, my dads are plenty used to it."

"I bet," Quinn found herself replying with a small smile, thinking of the dark-haired girl's regular attacks of diva-drama in the choir room that usually ended with very loud, very un-embarrassed tears. Then her head gave a nasty throb, and she closed her stinging eyes with a soft groan.

"Quinn? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a headache." With her eyes still closed, Quinn was completely unprepared for the gentle touch of Rachel's warm fingers against her temples. She should've jumped back, or given the other girl a nasty retort; but instead she found herself leaning into Rachel's soft touch, which was magically relieving the pressure pounding against her skull.

"Does that feel good?" Rachel asked hesitantly, sounding suddenly nervous and shy, though she'd been so forward a moment ago. Quinn couldn't believe she even had to ask.

"Yeah, really good," she sighed quietly, eyes still closed. "Don't stop." Rachel obeyed, and for a few minutes they sat in silence, as Quinn felt the tension slowly draining out of her heavy head. Eventually, Rachel's warm fingers withdrew, and Quinn opened her eyes sleepily, a small smile playing across her lips.

"Oh…" Rachel sighed softly, smiling back shyly. "I thought you fell asleep."

"I don't understand why you're being so nice to me," Quinn replied, her relaxed state breaking down her usual barriers between thought and speech. Rachel blinked, and her smile widened into something more at ease, more confident.

"You deserve to have someone be nice to you right now," she shrugged, like it was obvious. "You're going through something huge and scary…and you're turning into this whole new person. I mean…I like who you're turning into." Quinn blinked and rubbed her eyes. Did Rachel Berry just tell her she liked her? Why did that make her heart thump and her stomach squirm? At a loss for words, Quinn sat up against the pillows and took a cookie from the tray between them, quickly shoving it into her mouth.

"These are really good," she mumbled, already reaching for another.

"Yeah, they're my favorite," Rachel smiled, taking one herself. "Don't forget to drink your milk, though. Calcium is good for the baby."

"Yes ma'am," Quinn replied sarcastically, but the small smirk playing across her lips betrayed her happiness at the other girl's concern for her wellbeing. That, and the fact that she actually did as Rachel said, picking up the glass and taking a long drink. "Happy?" She asked when she'd finished, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"Yeah."

"Me too." Quinn felt the butterflies swirling around in her stomach again as they smiled at each other. She had absolutely no idea how this had happened; but she knew she wasn't lying. For the first time in months, Quinn Fabray was happy.


	2. A Bad Night and a Good Morning

Hey everyone,

Thanks so much for the feedback! This is my first Glee story, so I'm really glad people are enjoying it. Definitely do _not_ expect an update every day; but today I stayed home sick so there wasn't much else to do. Feedback is always appreciated! :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**By JewWitch**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Quinn slept badly that first night in the Berry house, despite the very comfortable bed (certainly an improvement over the pull-out couch in Finn's basement). It was the nightmare that woke her, the same one she'd been having off and on for the last few weeks since her parents kicked her out. She dreamed she was holding her baby, who looked up at her with the most innocent, adoring eyes; she was happy, they were both happy just to be together, and every time, Quinn would always get the same incredible, overpowering feelings of love and devotion.

Then her father would appear, his face a stone-cold mask, and wrench the baby from her arms. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't hold on, and she woke sobbing every time, the sound of her helpless daughter's wails stabbing her heart, the last image she saw in her mind that of her father taking her baby away from her. It hadn't occurred to her till now that she might wake someone up with her heartbroken sobs; when she was awake, she always cried quietly, holding in everything she could, always ashamed to let the world see even a sliver of weakness. That was how her parents had taught her to be. And she hadn't realized, at Finn's, how much louder she cried when she was asleep and having bad dreams; since she was in the basement, no one could hear her, anyway. And she certainly hadn't bothered anyone in her car.

But when she woke sobbing in the darkness that first night at Rachel's, she knew right away that something was different. Someone was curled up beside her, stroking her hair and whispering loving assurances in her ear. For a moment, she had absolutely no idea where she was; then, before she remembered anything, it was Rachel's touch that brought it all back. Too sleepy to be embarrassed, she rolled over and pressed her face into the other girl's dark hair, sobbing uncontrollably. Rachel held her so close, and whispered so sweetly, that Quinn was half-convinced she was still dreaming; but she didn't care. She hadn't felt this safe, or this protected, in so long. She couldn't let go.

Eventually, her tears eased, and her breathing returned to normal; and Rachel's hands stopped moving through her hair. Quinn had almost fallen back to sleep when she felt the other girl shifting, starting to get up, presumably to return to her own bed.

"Stay," she whispered hoarsely, the first words she'd spoken. Her fingers curled desperately into the material of the other girl's nightshirt, something she'd never, ever have done by the light of day.

"Okay," Rachel murmured back, settling back into the spot beside Quinn on the mattress. Instead of reaching out to stroke her hair again, Rachel's arm went around Quinn's waist, resting her warm hand over the small swell of Quinn's baby bump. It should've felt strange and awkward and just plain wrong; but it didn't. It made Quinn's nervous heartbeat ease, and she pressed her own hand over Rachel's to show her she liked it there. Emboldened by the wordless encouragement, the dark-haired girl began gently rubbing tiny circles over Quinn's stomach with her thumb, which produced more positive reinforcement from the blonde girl in the form of a drowsy sigh of contentment. She almost didn't want to fall back to sleep, now, she felt so good; but exhaustion soon took over, and within moments, Quinn was fast asleep.

In the morning, Quinn woke to find herself alone in her bed. For a moment she was disappointed; but in the next moment she was relieved, as confusion and embarrassment flooded through her at the memory of how vulnerable and needy and downright pathetic she'd been in the night. She had absolutely no idea how to process her vague, dreamlike memories of the intimate moments she'd spent with the dark-haired girl, and she was glad now that Rachel wasn't here to see her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. If she were, Quinn had no doubt she'd say something cruel and cutting to displace her own feelings of shame onto the poor girl who had only tried to soothe her; and she knew now that she didn't want to do that anymore.

She showered and dressed quickly, grateful that her room came with its own small but private bathroom, so she wouldn't have to deal with walking past Rachel going to or from the shower in their towels. She tried not to think about why that should bug her, when she'd been changing and showering with the entire cheerleading team for years. Eager to push the uncomfortable thoughts aside, she dressed quickly and found that she'd beaten Rachel to the kitchen, leaving her alone with Jacob—who, Quinn remembered, was the dad who'd baked the cookies she'd scarfed down the night before.

"Well my goodness, we're an early riser," he said when he saw her standing nervously in the entryway. "Is this really your normal breakfast time, or are you still on your polite-houseguest behavior? Which I assure you isn't necessary, by the way."

"Oh…um…sorry," Quinn said quietly, taking a step back as if to retreat to her room. "I didn't mean to intrude"—

"Don't be ridiculous, sweetie, come sit. Rachel's other dad is out by 6am most mornings to pick up the early shift at the hospital, so I'm used to being up early. And it will be a nice change of pace to have someone keep me company until her highness makes her appearance." He smiled broadly when he spoke of his daughter, and it gave Quinn a small pang for some reason. Her father used to smile at her like that, too…but then he threw her away, like a rotten apple. Some hint of her sadness must have shown on her face, because Jacob quickly switched gears. "So, what would you like for breakfast, kiddo? We've got eggs and toast, frozen waffles, oatmeal…"

"You don't have to cook for me," Quinn said quickly, jumping in before he'd finished his recitation. Finn's mom certainly hadn't; she always left for work before they got up, anyway, and at her own house she'd been making her own breakfast for years.

"Are you going for the low-maintenance teenager award here, or what?" Jacob joked, winking at her. "I _like_ to cook, Quinn. Don't take that away from me, okay? It could send me into a chasm of existential despair." Quinn laughed, reminded vividly of Rachel's propensity toward dramatics and big words—clearly inherited from the man in front of her, though Rachel's version of it was much more immediate and intense (and adolescent). She couldn't help being charmed a little.

"Well I don't want to be responsible for an existential crisis this early in the morning," she bantered back, finally taking a seat at the table. "How about some scrambled eggs?"

She'd already finished her breakfast, and done the dishes (Jacob tried to refuse this, too, but Quinn insisted) by the time Rachel came downstairs, dressed in her usual extremely-short skirt, argyle kneesocks, and cropped plaid sweater. She looked so normal (for Rachel, at least) that for a moment Quinn felt absolutely certain that she'd dreamed the intimate exchange in her bed the night before; then their eyes met, and they both blushed crimson. Nope, Quinn definitely hadn't imagined _that._

"Good morning," she said shyly, smiling at the dark-haired girl.

"Morning," Rachel replied, returning the shy smile with interest.

"Rachel, honey, if all your friends are as sweet and lovely as Miss Quinn here, you can start a foster home for teens in the back yard for all Daddy and I care."

"Dad," Rachel snorted, rolling her eyes in the typical teen-to-parent way. Quinn, for her part, was still trying to absorb the compliment Jacob had just given her. Did her really call her _sweet and lovely?_ Clearly, he knew nothing of the cruelties she'd been visiting on his only daughter for years. Suddenly, Quinn was more ashamed of the way she'd acted as head cheerleader than ever before, and her eyes welled up with tears. She quickly turned back to the sink, determined not to start the day with more tears, and especially not in front of Rachel. Thankfully, father and daughter fell into their own regular morning routines, giving the confused, hormonal pregnant girl the chance to gather herself and push the tears away, for now.

"So…you wanna ride to school with me?" Quinn asked a little awkwardly when the clock struck 7:45. "It seems silly for us to take two cars when we're going to the same place."

"Sure…if you don't mind," Rachel nodded hesitantly.

"Why would I mind?" Quinn asked, before the obvious answer hit her: Rachel wasn't sure she'd want anyone to know about their new living arrangement, and she was giving Quinn the option of keeping it a secret, if that was what she wanted. Unable to express out loud how much she _didn't_ want that, Quinn just rolled her eyes at Rachel's hesitant expression, and reached for her hand.

"Bye Dad!" Rachel yelled over her shoulder, beaming as her fingers laced with Quinn's. "We'll see you later!"

As soon as they were in the car, the awkwardness they'd both felt upon entering the kitchen returned, making them both silent as Quinn turned on the engine and backed out of the driveway. They both gave each other nervous sideways glances, trying to act casual and pretend they weren't looking; until finally, Quinn broke the silence.

"Listen…I'm sorry about last night." She kept her eyes on the road as she spoke, grateful for the excuse not to look into the other girl's deep brown eyes when she brought up the subject of their late-night-whatever-it-was.

"Why? I'm not," Rachel said simply. That got Quinn's attention, and she took her eyes off the road momentarily to turn and give the other girl a you-must-be-joking look. "I, I mean, I'm not _glad_ you had nightmares of course, but you shouldn't be sorry. I'm not sorry for being there for you, I mean. Unless you'd rather just be alone next time, if there _is_ a next time, which of course would be fine too if"—

"Rachel!" Quinn exclaimed, cutting the dark-haired girl off mid-babble. When she looked back across the seat, Rachel's nervous expression made her laugh, a real, easy, un-forced laugh, and soon Rachel was laughing, too, and all the tension in the car flew right out the window. When their giggles had finally petered out, Quinn said softly, "I don't want to be alone next time."

"Good, then we agree," Rachel nodded, and Quinn could hear the note of happiness in her voice. "So, what about, you know…the rest? I mean, people are going to talk when they see me getting out of your car. What do you want me to say?"

"Rachel, it's not up to me to tell you what to say. You've been nicer to me than anyone else in the world in the last 24 hours. You can say whatever you want, okay?"

"Okay…" Rachel said slowly, and Quinn could feel the other girl's intense gaze focused on her as she drove, making the butterflies in her stomach kick up again. She wished she hadn't eaten so much at breakfast. "So, if I told people that we're friends now…that would be okay?" The vulnerability in Rachel's usually assertive voice made Quinn feel oddly _more_ sure of herself; it was as if they were on more equal footing now, after Quinn's nightmares and tears, when Rachel had been the calm, reassuring one.

"Well it's the truth, so of course it's okay," she shrugged, making it seem like it was no big deal to her. She chanced a glance across the seat, to find a hundred-watt Rachel Berry smile being aimed at her. Quinn immediately blushed and looked back at the road. Thankfully, they were almost at school. _Friends_, she told herself firmly, that was all they were. That was what Rachel had said. They were friends who lived in the same house, and occasionally cuddled each other at night. Yup…just friends.

When they got out of the car, they both had to shove their hands in their pockets to resist the impulse to reach for each other's hand, both assuming the other would reject such a gesture. But the shy smile they shared before parting for their separate homerooms was almost as noticeable to anyone who was paying attention; and more than a few people were.

…To be continued!


	3. We're Just Friends

Hey guys,

thanks so much for the positive feedback! Once again, _do not_ expect this daily updating to continue...I'm just totally in the zone w/ these awesome characters right now, but I know it won't last! But I _will_ promise to update as often as possible. Hope you'll like this little bit :)

--JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 3**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

The change happened so quickly, there was actually a tiny lag in the rumor mill; and for a few days, only the Glee kids seemed to have noticed the fact that the pregnant ex-head-cheerleader and the hot-tempered diva queen were suddenly invading each other's personal space in a whole new way. When Quinn got in Rachel's face now, it wasn't to deliver some malicious insult to the shorter girl, but to whisper something in her ear that made them both giggle. When Rachel caught Quinn's eye across the stage, it wasn't to glare at her for missing her mark, but to share a shy smile. But the rest of the school cottoned on soon enough though, on the day that Rachel got her very last slushie facial.

She was walking down the hall to her locker, and Quinn, coming from the other direction, had just caught sight of her. Before she had a chance to wave, or smile, or do anything to catch the dark-haired starlet's attention, Kyle Karovsky came around a corner and threw a cherry slushie in Rachel's face. Right in front of Quinn. And the hormonal blonde girl had a very different reaction than when she'd been hit herself, that one awful time—then, she'd felt totally humiliated, and it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to burst into tears in front of the whole school. Now, however, she was _pissed._ She was pregnant-girl-pissed. She walked right up behind the snickering hockey thug and tapped him on the shoulder to make him turn around. When he did, she hauled off and kneed him in the groin as hard as she could.

The massive hockey player had squawked like a big, dumb turkey, and when he doubled over, Quinn grabbed his earlobe, which was conveniently at her eye level now.

"Pick. On. Someone. Your. Own. Size," she snarled through gritted teeth. When she released him, he staggered back, glaring furiously like he wanted to hit her. Quinn just stood there and crossed her arms expectantly, silently daring him to hit a pregnant girl. Rachel just watched open-mouthed, red slushie dripping from the ends of her hair. And behind her, the rest of the school saw Quinn turn her back on the retreating hockey stud, and take Rachel's cherry-coated fingers in her own to lead her into the girls' bathroom.

No one had dared throw a slushie at Rachel since then, of course; they were all too scared of invoking the pregnant girl's fury. But it didn't stop the immediate explosion of the Quinn-Fabray-and-Rachel-Berry-are-gay-for-each-other rumor mill on all available high school networks. Without ever officially discussing it, the Glee kids all seemed agreed to defend their own, telling everyone who voiced this opinion that they were full of crap; though they probably believed it more than the rest of the school, seeing so much more of the evidence of the unlikely new relationship between the two girls.

They saw the change in their rehearsals the day that, when Rachel stormed out in a tantrum, Quinn went after her and brought her back in less than five minutes, ready to compromise on whatever artistic choice had caused her to storm out in the first place. Soon after, they saw Rachel running after Quinn when the blonde girl would suddenly drop everything and race for the bathroom to throw up. No one had ever followed Quinn out of rehearsal before, all too scared that she'd just yell at them to get lost and leave her alone. But it was obvious that she wasn't telling Rachel to get lost, as they'd always re-appear together, usually with their hands linked behind their backs, like they thought no one would notice that way.

In truth, both girls were so caught up in the delicate new feelings they were sharing, they couldn't have talked about it openly even if they'd wanted to. By day, they carefully explored their new friendship, noticing for the first time that they were in most of the same honors classes. They studied together, ate together, and went home together, where they quickly fell into a comfortable routine with Rachel's dads, who couldn't have been more charmed by the new addition to their household.

And at night, they continued to follow the pattern they'd established on Quinn's first night in the Berry house. Sometimes Quinn had nightmares, and woke crying in Rachel's arms; but other times, it was Quinn who slipped across the hall to Rachel's bed, where she was always received with open arms. Though both of them knew that this wasn't necessarily normal BFF behavior, they still insisted their relationship was purely platonic, and would only roll their eyes when their separate friends asked them, over and over, whether they'd gotten into each other's pants yet.

It was a normal evening, like any other, when their dismissive eye-rolling finally stopped. Rachel was rehearsing her solo from "Somebody to Love" in her room, singing into a hairbrush and dancing around for Quinn, who lay giggling across Rachel's bed, when suddenly the blonde girl gasped and went rigid. Rachel immediately dropped her hairbrush and jumped up on the bed beside her friend, her hands hovering anxiously over the pregnant girl's body as if worried she might break her.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Is it the baby? Should I call Daddy? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Quinn shook her head, her eyes lighting up with a glow that Rachel could only describe as heavenly when she grabbed the dark-haired girl's hand, and pulled it to her stomach. It only took a moment for Rachel to realize she was feeling Quinn's baby's first kicks.

"Oh, Quinn…" Rachel whispered, beaming, as they smiled at each other with their eyes full of tears. They stayed frozen like that, both hoping the baby would kick again. A full minute went by, but nothing happened.

"Sing some more, Rach," Quinn urged, her eyes alight. Rachel smiled shyly, and continued singing her solo. Immediately, the baby began to kick again, hard. Quinn laughed, and Rachel kept singing, both of them feeling a slew of enthusiastic kicks from the little Fabray.

"Wow," Rachel murmured when she'd finished the song, utterly awe-struck at the connection she'd felt to Quinn and her baby in the last few minutes.

"She likes your voice," Quinn beamed, still holding Rachel's hand against her stomach with both of her own.

"Either that, or she's just really into Queen," Rachel joked, making Quinn giggle and shake her head. Maybe it was the pregnancy glow around Quinn at that moment, awed with her baby's first communication to the outside world; maybe it was the reddish-orange glow of the sunset through the window, lighting up the blonde girl's hair like a halo. Maybe it was just the overflow of feelings between the two of them, that they couldn't push to the back of their minds anymore, because the back of their minds were full to exploding. Whatever the reason, Rachel took her free hand—the one that wasn't currently pinned to Quinn's stomach—and curled it into the other girl's hair, bringing their lips together in an impulsive, tender kiss. The pregnant girl stiffened for half a second, then returned the kiss enthusiastically, both of them happily exploring each other's lips, teeth and tongues as the baby continued to kick gleefully against their hands still pressed to Quinn's stomach.

Finally, the two girls broke apart, both panting shallowly with their eyes closed and their foreheads pressed together. It was Quinn who broke the silence first.

"I think…I love you, Rachel."

"You think?" Rachel replied, half-teasing, her full lips curling into a smirk.

"Well, I know how fussy you are about well-thought-out decisions. I wouldn't want to mess up your whole logic-model process," Quinn teased back, taking one hand off her stomach to wind into Rachel's hair. The shorter girl beamed, leaning up to press another kiss to Quinn's lips.

"Yeah, that _is_ true…I guess we need to make really, really sure we both know what we're talking about before we make any hasty decisions."

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed through another kiss, already impatient for more of the taste of Rachel's soft lips. "Let's make sure…yeah, really sure." Quinn pushed Rachel down and pinned her against the bed as their kiss deepened; and they both felt the baby kicking away as their stomachs pressed together.

…To be continued!


	4. Distracted

Hey guys,

this update is pretty short, but I figured you'd rather have a short update _now_ than wait for a longer one over the weekend! Enjoy :)

--JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 4**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

"Girls! Dinner!" The voice floating up the stairs made Quinn and Rachel both freeze. It wasn't exactly as if they were surprised—they knew that Rachel's Dads were home, they knew it was almost dinner time—but once they started kissing, the rest of the world may as well have been at the other end of an intergalactic vortex.

"I guess we got kinda distracted," Rachel smiled sheepishly, biting her lip in an oh-well-who-cares kind of way that would normally have charmed the pants right off Quinn. At the moment, however, the blonde girl was turning white and starting to hyperventilate. "Quinn? Are you okay, baby?"

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Quinn whispered, burying her face in Rachel's hair as she began to tremble violently. "They're gonna kill me Rae, they're gonna throw me out on my ass…"

"What?" Rachel laughed, but when she realized how deadly serious and utterly freaked out Quinn actually was, she immediately bit back her giggles. "Sweetie, no, it's gonna be fine. These are _my_ parents we're talking about, not yours, okay? They adore you. Shh, don't cry…"

"As your friend, maybe," Quinn choked, her voice muffled by her tears, and because she was pressing her face into Rachel's hair so hard. "But not as your g-girlfriend…"

"My what?" Rachel squeaked, so surprised that her hands, which had been rubbing Quinn's back, froze in mid-motion. Quinn raised her head and stared at Rachel with an expression of absolute terror, which would have been adorable if not for her red eyes and tearstained cheeks.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, sitting up and covering her face with her hands. "I am so, so stupid…"

"No you're not!" Rachel exclaimed, throwing her arms around the trembling blonde girl and holding her as hard as she could. "You're my brilliant, beautiful, amazing, perfect…girlfriend." That got Quinn's attention. Slowly, she peeked out from behind her hands, to find Rachel beaming at her like she was the absolute center of the universe.

"Really?" The blonde girl asked shyly, still looking like she didn't quite believe it. In answer, Rachel took Quinn's face in both hands, lightly stroking her tears away with her thumbs, and kissed her tenderly.

"Really," the dark-haired girl whispered. Quinn kissed her back urgently, her hands slipping up the back of Rachel's shirt and tracing aimless patterns over her hips, pulling her closer.

"Hey, let's go! The pizza's getting cold…" The two girls sprang apart on the bed when the door flew open to reveal Michael, Rachel's second dad, standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry!" Quinn squeaked, going white again.

"Don't be mad at Quinn, Daddy," Rachel said in her firmest, most authoritative tone, which might have been more commanding if she hadn't had Quinn's lipstick smudged across her face. "I was the one who started it, so if you're going to get upset"—

"Oh, girls, _please_. I'm not upset. In fact, I'm thrilled you've both got all your clothes on."

"Ew! Daddy!" Rachel shrieked, turning and burying her face in a pillow.

"You're not mad?" Quinn asked faintly, her breathing starting to become shallow again.

"No, honey, I'm not mad, and Jacob won't be either. Love isn't something to get angry about in this house." Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no sound came out. She still wasn't breathing normally, and she was starting to feel dizzy.

"Breathe, baby," Rachel whispered, rubbing her back, but Quinn couldn't make her shallow gasping stop. "Daddy! You broke my girlfriend!"

"All right, let's all calm down," Michael said, sounding perfectly calm himself. Spending all day treating critically wounded patients in the Emergency Room did tend to make everyday teenage hysterics a little less frightening, even with a pregnancy thrown into the mix. "Quinn, honey, you're all right…" He pulled her by her hips to the edge of the bed, and gently pushed her head down between her knees. "Just relax now, kiddo. You're not going anywhere. This is your home, sweetheart, for as long as you want it to be." Rachel just kept rubbing Quinn's back, looking anxiously back and forth between her dad's calming face, and her girlfriend's heaving shoulder blades.

"Thank you," Quinn whispered when she finally got her breath back, and slowly sat up. Her face was still frighteningly pale and tearstained.

"I love you," Rachel whispered back, smiling her thousand-watt smile.

By the time they got downstairs, the pizza really was cold. But no one minded very much.


	5. Promises

Happy weekend, kiddies! Hope you enjoy this update. Thanks as always for the enthusiastic feedback, it totally inspires me!

--JW :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 5**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

"You owe me fifty bucks, babe," Michael smugly informed Jacob when he arrived in the kitchen, Quinn and Rachel at his heels.

"Already?" Jacob squealed, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "I thought for sure it would take at least another month for Rachel to finish her pro/con list."

"Well unless that list was stuck behind Quinn's tonsils…"

"Oh my _God_, will you both shut up before I have an aneurysm?!" Rachel shrieked, glaring furiously between her fathers as her cheeks flushed bright red. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You were betting on, on…" She stuttered over the end of her sentence, unable to complete the thought out loud.

"Over how long it would be before we caught the two of you making out? Yes, princess, we certainly were. And I for one am none too pleased that you just cost me $50…but congrats, anyway." Jacob winked at the pair of them.

"I think I'm having a heart attack," Quinn moaned softly, and Rachel snapped out of her frozen fury to pull her girlfriend down into a chair at the kitchen table, anxiously peering into the blonde girl's face to make sure she wasn't going to start hyperventilating again.

"Okay, no more teasing," Michael promised, going over to Jacob to help dish out the pizza. "Quinn nearly passed out after I walked in on them upstairs, hon. I think we're gonna have to be a tad more sensitive than usual with this one."

"Oh, sweetie!" Jacob dropped the pizza and immediately went over to the table to squeeze Quinn's shoulder. "Don't pay any attention to us, we're only teasing. We forget what it's like for someone who isn't used to it, and we certainly aren't trying to give you a heart attack. We knew from the day Rachel asked us if you could move in that she loved you—it wasn't a problem then, and it's not a problem now. We knew this was gonna happen eventually…all we ask is that you treat each other with respect, and try not to break each other's hearts."

"I promise," Quinn agreed urgently, nodding wide-eyed at one of the two coolest parents she'd ever met in her life. Then she turned back to Rachel, and took the smaller girl's hand in both of hers. "I promise," she whispered again, staring into the deep brown eyes fixed on hers.

"I promise, too," Rachel murmured, wide-eyed and earnest. They were both too shy with their newly discovered feelings to kiss in front of Rachel's dads, but the beaming smiles they gave each other sealed their promise almost as well. Then, after a moment of silence, Quinn cleared her throat and looked up sheepishly.

"Would it be massively insensitive of me to ask if we can eat now? I'm freaking starving."

The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal, with Quinn and Rachel finishing their homework in the den while Rachel's dads cleaned up; then they all watched Planet Earth together on the Discovery Channel. Quinn actually fell asleep on the couch with her head in Rachel's lap, she was so drained from the intense emotions she'd run through in the course of the evening (and in the last few weeks, she'd started to notice that she was more tired than usual, anyway, which Michael assured her was perfectly normal and would probably intensify as her pregnancy progressed). Rachel didn't have the heart to wake her; she just played absently with the sleeping girl's hair until the credits rolled, and gently rousing her with soft kisses all over her face. Michael and Jacob had already gone up to bed, so Rachel wasn't self-conscious about waking her girlfriend with kisses.

"Hmmmm…" Quinn sighed sleepily, showing no sign of opening her eyes. "Go away, Finn, she doesn't like you anymore…and you can't watch…" Rachel giggled, and the vibration jolted Quinn awake. "Oh…hey," Quinn yawned, blinking up sheepishly at her girlfriend's smiling face. "I was having the weirdest dream…"

"Yeah, I just caught the previews," Rachel teased, smoothing Quinn's tousled hair back to kiss her lightly on the mouth. "So you _don't_ want us to make out in front of Finn?" Quinn blushed, but giggled back, turning to press her face into Rachel's leg.

"C'mon sleepyhead, let's go upstairs," Rachel urged, tugging on Quinn's hand to pull her up. "Tomorrow's another big day."

"Yeah…" Quinn sighed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with an absentminded grin plastered to her face. "Rach…about tomorrow? What do you want to tell people? About us, I mean." The blonde girl bit her lip, her hazel eyes suddenly alert with nervousness.

"What do _you_ want to tell them?" Rachel hedged, returning Quinn's anxious look.

"I asked you first."

"Right, okay. Well…I, um…I guess I….kinda…want the whole world to know that you're all mine now. You know, if that's okay. I mean everyone already thought we were doing it before, so…"

"That's okay," Quinn nodded breathlessly, beaming. "That was what I wanted you to say."

"Oh…" Rachel grinned, blushing, obviously pleased that she'd passed her first girlfriend test. "Good."

"Hey Rach?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

* * *

They didn't bother going through the charade of going to sleep in their separate beds that night; Quinn followed Rachel into her room, and Rachel didn't try to stop her. They were both a little nervous, worried about what would be expected now that their feelings were out in the open, and Quinn's erratic heartbeat made the baby start kicking again as they curled up together in the middle of Rachel's large bed.

"Oh, wow, she's doing baby aerobics in there or something," Quinn sighed, rubbing her stomach to try to calm the kicks that were jolting her out of her sleepy state. "I guess it's my fault…I need to calm down."

"Are you nervous, too?" Rachel asked softly, curling an arm around Quinn's waist to thread their fingers together over the pregnant girl's stomach.

"Yeah," Quinn whispered, nodding in the darkness.

"It's okay…we don't have to do anything tonight. I really just want to hold you. If that's okay."

"That's extra-strength okay," Quinn sighed happily, squeezing Rachel's fingers in her own. She noticed that _if that's okay_ was quickly becoming Rachel's mantra, and she found that she really liked it. It showed her that Rachel wanted her to be happy and secure more than she wanted…well, anything else. That thought made her heartbeat kick up again with giddy swarms of butterflies, and the baby, who had quieted in the last few minutes, responded with a fresh round of enthusiastic kicks.

"Wow, she's going for the gold tonight," Rachel observed drowsily, feeling the kicks easily with her hand still pressed to Quinn's belly.

"For real," Quinn agreed, yawning. "I hope she chills out soon…I'm sleepy…" Suddenly Rachel withdrew her hand from Quinn's, and pulled away from her back. "Hey," Quinn whined.

"Shh, roll over," Rachel murmured, urging the blonde girl onto her back.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asked shyly, as Rachel curled up with her head resting on Quinn's baby bump.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby…" Quinn felt tears sting her eyes as Rachel softly sang to the baby, and the kicks instantly began to ease. Though she knew the lullaby was intended to soothe the baby, and not her, the blonde girl felt herself sinking into sleep, too, under the powerful effect of her girlfriend's voice. She just barely managed to slip a hand into Rachel's silky hair before drifted off into a deep sleep. Rachel kept singing for a few more minutes, even though she was pretty sure that both Quinn and the baby were out cold. Then, when she was sure it was safe, she moved the dead weight of her girlfriend's hand from out of her hair, and crept back up to nestle against her shoulder, rubbing her face into Quinn's sweet-smelling blonde hair.

"Goodnight, my angels," she whispered drowsily. Then she followed Quinn into sleep.

* * *

The next day at school started out fairly normally; apparently, there wasn't much of a visible difference in the way Quinn and Rachel were acting now than they had before. They were both too shy for real public PDA—no kissing against the lockers—but they still had their hands all over each other most of the time, and they still made moony-eyes at each other when forced to separate by inconveniences like desks. It wasn't until glee rehearsal that anything changed visibly.

They were rehearsing the choreography for "You Can't Always Get What You Want," which had gone over so well at Sectionals they'd decided to carry it over to Regionals, too. At one point, when Puck twirled Quinn around, he playfully grabbed her ass, and she gave a small squeak and jumped back from the smirking football player. She opened her mouth to reprimand him, but before she got a word out, Rachel stormed over and smacked him upside the head.

"Keep your grabby paws off my girlfriend, Noah Puckerman," the tiny girl growled, and Puck's guffaw of amusement died in his throat when he saw Quinn move to stand next to Rachel, slipping her arm around the shorter girl's shoulders and smirking at him delightedly.

"For real?!" He demanded indignantly, as the rest of the club looked on silently. "I thought you were just being girly together, with all those sleepover parties an' shit."

"Nope." Quinn shook her head, still smiling.

"I can't believe this! Are you seriously telling me I rate below _Rachel Berry?!"_

"You and everyone else on the planet," Quinn nodded, feeling a tiny shiver of delight run through the smaller girl's frame beside her.

"Honestly, Puck, are you freakin' blind?" Santana sighed, rolling her eyes, which made the rest of them snicker quietly.

"All right, can we please get back to the number?" Mr. Shue said pointedly, regaining all their attention. And just like that, the rumors stopped being rumors, and the whole school knew that Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray were much, much more than friends.


	6. I Am Not a Science Geek

Hey guys,

sorry it's been a while-- yesterday was my cousin's Bar Mitzvah, so my family's been really busy (with a few splashes of family drama tossed in)! Here's a short update with very little plot, extra-fluffy :) Hope you enjoy!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 6**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

On the Monday and Tuesday before Christmas break, Quinn started falling asleep in her afternoon classes; and on Wednesday, she cried when Rachel tried to wake her up for school.

"I can't, I can't," the blonde girl whimpered, tears streaming down her face as the dark-haired girl pulled her close and felt her forehead, checking for a fever. "I'm not sick; I'm just so tired, Rach…please, please, let me sleep a little longer?"

"Shh…don't cry, angel face," Rachel whispered, slipping a hand up the back of Quinn's pajama top to trail her nails up the blonde girl's spine, something that never failed to soothe her when she had hormonal pregnancy mood swings or nightmares. "It's okay…you just need a day off, huh?"

"Mmm," Quinn sighed. Then she was out cold, her breath warming Rachel's collarbone and sending pleasant chills up the smaller girl's spine. It was physically painful for Rachel to get up and leave Quinn sleeping alone, but she knew that her dad wouldn't let her stay home just to watch over her girlfriend; so she reluctantly crawled out of bed and got dressed.

"Hey kiddo, you're running a little late today," her dad said when she finally appeared in the kitchen. "Where's Quinn? She better shake a leg if we're gonna have time for breakfast."

"She went back to sleep, Dad. She's been really tired all week, and I really, really think she needs a day off, okay? Maybe even a couple of days. She cried when the alarm went off. I don't think she's sick, but I don't know; maybe Daddy should give her a checkup later…"

"Don't worry too much, princess, I'm sure she's fine. We'll let her sleep, okay? She's almost five months pregnant now; it's normal to be tired, with everything her body's going through. I'll call the school office and tell them she won't be in today, and you can bring back her homework. Maybe I'll teach her how to make my super-famous latkes later, if she's up for it." Jacob wiggled his eyebrows, and Rachel smiled, obviously relieved.

"Thanks, Dad." She threw her arms around his neck, and he patted her back.

"I know, I know, I'm the coolest dad ever."

"Yep." Rachel kissed his cheek, scooped Quinn's car keys off the kitchen table, and reluctantly left for school by herself.

Without Quinn's company, the day dragged by painfully slowly for Rachel. She'd grown used to being able to turn to the blonde girl whenever she had a funny thought or idea during class time, and every time she looked up and saw the empty desk where Quinn's shy smile should've been, it was like a small but heavy rock dropped into her stomach. By the time she got to glee rehearsal, the dark-haired starlet was officially mopey. Before she walked into the choir room, she pulled out her phone and dashed off a quick text: _School sux w/o u :(. _It perked her up slightly to get a reply immediately: _So come home! We have latkes YUM :)_

Everyone noticed how lackluster her singing was in rehearsal, but no one was tactless enough to say anything about it, not even Mr. Shue. He just said that with winter break so close, there was no point in learning anything new, and let them go early. Rachel was the first one out the door, making it home in record time to find her girlfriend curled up on the couch, nibbling on a fresh batch of homemade latkes and listening to her iPod. With her earbuds in, Quinn hadn't noticed Rachel's entrance; and Rachel took the opportunity to sneak up and jump into her lap, muffling the blonde girl's surprised squeal with a kiss.

"Fuck, you scared me!" Quinn gasped, yanking out her earbuds and trying not to smile at Rachel's mischievous expression. "And you almost spilled the latkes."

"So you like 'em, huh? I thought you would." Rachel leaned in and tasted Quinn's lips again. "Mmmm…Dad's special recipe!"

"Oh my God Rach, they're soooooo good. I dunno if it's 'cause the baby's half Jewish, but I seriously cannot stop eating these. Can we really only have them on Hannukah?"

"Well, if you like them that much, I'm sure we can make an exception…just tell Dad they're the baby's new favorite food, and he'll probably make them every day until we all puke."

"Awesome." Quinn beamed and picked up her iPod, which had fallen to the floor when Rachel snuck up on her.

"What are you listening to?" Rachel asked absently, curling up with her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"Radiolab."

"Huh, I never heard of them."

"It's not a band," Quinn admitted a little sheepishly. "It's this really cool science podcast from New York Public Radio." Rachel said nothing, but lifted her head to stare silently at her girlfriend, one eyebrow raised in frank astonishment. "What? I can't have layers?" Quinn asked defensively.

"No, I mean, of course you can—I just had no idea one of your layers was a science geek."

"I am_ not_ a science geek," Quinn huffed, scowling. "I just like learning weird trivia. Like, just now they were interviewing this guy with this crazy neurological disorder called proprioception, which means that his whole body is basically numb from the neck down, but he's not paralyzed or anything—but since he can't feel his body, the only way he can move is by making eye contact with the limb he wants to move and, like, concentrating _really_ hard. So he hasn't turned off any lights in his house in over ten years. Isn't that wild?"

"Fascinating, Dr. Fabray. What's the prognosis?"

"Oh, shut up," Quinn grumbled, pouting half-heartedly. "You watch Spongebob Squarepants."

"Aww, don't pout sweetie. I wasn't really teasing you…well, I was, but not in a mean way. I was just surprised, that's all. I didn't even know you liked NPR."

"I don't, really. I just started listening to it because they mentioned it on This American Life."

"You listen to This American Life?" Rachel gaped. Quinn scowled at the other girl's flabbergasted expression.

"Layers. I have them," Quinn reminded her, a little sullenly. Rachel cocked her head, grinning a little mischievously. "What?" Quinn finally demanded.

"Smart chicks are hot," Rachel smirked, and leaned in to kiss her girlfriend senseless.


	7. Exploding Christmas

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 7

By JewWitch

* * *

Rachel woke Quinn up on the first day of Christmas break with "Jingle Bell Rock" on the stereo and a mountain of tinsel thrown onto the bed, practically bouncing with excitement at the chance to share her family's annual Christmas preparations with her girlfriend, who was pleasantly surprised to learn they'd be celebrating Christmas at all. Since they'd already lit the candles for all eight nights of Hannukah, she'd assumed that Christmas was out—but Rachel explained that they'd always celebrated both, since Michael's family was Methodist, and Christmas was very important to them. They spent the first day of vacation finding the perfect tree, then picking out one new ornament each before unpacking any of the old decorations (another family tradition). Rachel picked a heavy silver ornament in the shape of a music note; Michael found a gingerbread man dressed in hospital scrubs; Jacob chose a blown-glass Santa riding a sleigh piled high with presents; and Quinn found a simple white dove, slipping it into the basket without comment.

Rachel noticed how quiet the blonde girl was on the ride home, and worried over how sad she must be feeling at her first Christmas without her family; but rather than say anything and risk making her feel worse, the hyperactive starlet went out of her way to include Quinn in every aspect of their own holiday traditions, from the decorations and lights that they managed to pin to every inch of the house, to the special iced sugar cookies and peppermint cocoa. Sensing that Rachel's happiness depended on hers, Quinn tried to show her nothing but smiles; but there were moments, when the dark-haired girl was laughing with her dads over some shared memory, that the pregnant girl couldn't help wondering what her own parents were doing at that moment, and whether they missed her at all.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, the Berry house was so alight with festive energy that it almost resembled a holiday theme park. Quinn was unusually quiet, not out of melancholy this time, but nerves—Michael's father, younger sister and brother-in-law would all be arriving any moment for Christmas dinner, and no matter how many reassurances Rachel tried to give her that they would all adore her, Quinn seriously doubted they'd be thrilled to meet their granddaughter and niece's pregnant charity-case of a girlfriend. It didn't help that the smell of the roasting turkey made her race to the bathroom for an extra round of puking just after she'd put on her best white dress, either.

Sooner than the blonde ex-cheerleader was prepared for, the doorbell rang, and the population of the house was doubled. Rachel introduced Quinn to her grandfather (who she addressed as "Poppy"), aunt, and uncle with her usual beaming smile, and Quinn tried her best not to notice their eyes all going straight to her growing stomach when they shook her hand. She was painfully grateful when Michael whisked in and swept his relations into the living room for eggnog, and Jacob announced that he needed the girls to help him in the kitchen. Soon enough, they were all seated around the elaborately decorated dining room table, groaning under the weight of an enormous holiday meal that just barely fit on the large table, even with the extra leaf in for company. Quinn was so nervous, she could barely eat—a noticeable change to the three Berrys, who were used to seeing her polish off an entire jar of pickles in a day.

"Honey, do you want something else?" Jacob asked kindly, unknowingly making Quinn's nervous stomachache double in intensity when Michael's father glanced over with a disapproving expression.

"No, I'm fine," She murmured, shaking her head.

"You sure?" Rachel asked, squeezing Quinn's knee under the table. "'Cause yesterday we practically had to padlock the fridge to keep you away from that stuffing."

"I'm _fine,_ Rach," Quinn snapped, and for a moment an awkward silence fell over the table.

"Well, young lady," Rachel's grandfather rumbled, his voice a deep, rich bass note, "We can all see that you're eating for two. I assume the baby will be given up for adoption when the time comes?" Quinn's cheeks flushed scarlet, and she stared down into her lap, hands clasped nervously on her knees.

"If that's what Quinn wants," Rachel said, slipping her hand between Quinn's in her lap.

_"If?"_ the old man chuckled a little patronizingly at his granddaughter. "What other options do you think there are, here, pumpkin?"

"There are plenty of options," Rachel replied hotly, sitting up a little straighter, clearly bristling at her grandfather's presumption.

"Michael? What do you have to say about this?" The old man demanded of his son, still looking like the whole thing was nothing but a big joke to him. "You're not about to raise a stranger's bastard, are you?"

_"Poppy!"_ Rachel yelled, jumping up in her chair so fast it fell backwards, clattering to the floor.

"Honey, calm down," Michael said, but his voice wasn't its usual soothing timbre. "Dad, we just haven't talked it through yet, all right? Nothing's been decided."

"Well this is just ridiculous," the old man stormed, his deep voice growing slightly louder and more intimidating. "What is there to talk through? These are children. Who's going to raise this baby? My granddaughter? Adoption is the only option you have left, young lady! My son's family has already been more generous than I'd have advised, and if you expect them to take on a baby too"—before he could finish his sentence, Quinn was out of her chair and bolting from the room, too humiliated to even defend herself.

"Quinn! Wait!" Rachel cried, jumping up from her newly-righted chair to chase after her girlfriend, who was already out the front door with her car keys in hand. "Don't listen to him, Quinn! Please, just wait a sec!" But Quinn couldn't wait; she was blinded by tears and humiliation. Rachel chased her out into the snow, but the smaller girl slipped going down the front steps and had to grab the railing with both arms to keep from toppling over. By the time she righted herself, Quinn's car was pulling out of the driveway into the thickly billowing snow. Rachel stared after her, trembling, for only a moment; then she stomped back inside, threw on her parka and grabbed Quinn's, and marched back to the table, eyes blazing.

"Give me your car keys," she said to Jacob, holding out her hand expectantly.

"Honey, you need to calm down," her dad said gently, glancing across to Michael with a _you-need-to-help-me-here_ expression.

"Give me your fucking car keys!" Rachel yelled, her face going red.

"Hey," Michael said sharply, his voice going so low that he sounded just like his father, sitting across the table. "Don't you curse at your dad, kiddo. And don't think we're sending you out driving in a blizzard, either. You've only had your license for three months, and it's getting nasty out there."

"You're right, Daddy, it _is_ awful out. And Quinn's out there having a meltdown because Poppy was so mean to her, and she doesn't even have her coat, and she's going to crash her car or catch pneumonia or"—

"Rachel, calm down." Jacob stood and put both hands on his daughter's shoulders. "Of course we're going after Quinn. We just don't want you driving. We'll all go—that way when we find her, Daddy can drive her car home, okay?" Glancing between her fathers, and seeing both their calm expressions, Rachel's racing heartbeat slowed slightly; and she nodded.

"Fine. Let's go." She was barely aware of her dads telling her grandpa, aunt and uncle to stay and enjoy their meal, promising to be back as soon as they could. Rachel would have told them all to be gone by the time they got back; but it wasn't up to her, and telling off her family wasn't her top priority anymore. Not with Quinn out there all alone in a blizzard on Christmas Eve.

Once the three of them were in the car, Rachel had to admit she was glad to have her dads along. For one thing, it meant she was free to devote her attention to her phone, though she knew Quinn wasn't likely to pick up; when that didn't work, she stared out the window through the thick snow and growing darkness for any signs of the blonde girl's car. They drove slowly through town for nearly three-quarters of an hour without any luck before Rachel's cell phone rang. Neither of her dads had to ask who it was, judging by the expression on her face.

"Oh my God Quinn, are you okay? Where are you?"

"Can you come get me?" Quinn whispered, her voice rough and broken sounding. It was obvious to Rachel that she'd cried herself into exhaustion.

"Just tell me where you are, baby. We'll be there as fast as we can, okay?"

"Okay," Quinn sighed shakily, and Rachel could hear her sniffling quietly. It made her want to hit something. "I'm at the bottom of Old Mill Road…I think my car's stuck."

"Shh, it's okay, don't worry about anything," Rachel gushed, so relieved to hear her girlfriend's voice that nothing else mattered to her. "We're coming to get you, and everything will be okay."

Rachel continued to croon soothingly to Quinn over the phone all the way to their destination, terrified to hang up until she had the blonde girl safe in her arms. It was a slower journey than she would've liked; Old Mill Road was at the far end of town, out past the edges of the county plowing area, and Michael refused to go above 20 miles per hour in the falling snow. Finally, their headlights fell on Quinn's little red Chevy, stuck in a snow bank off the side of the road, and Rachel jumped out of the back seat almost before they'd come to a complete stop. She staggered through the thick snow and threw herself against Quinn's passenger-side door, only to find it locked.

"Quinn?" She knocked hesitantly, all the terrified, frenzied energy draining out of her when she saw her girlfriend's pale, tearstained face looking up at her through the fogged window. "Can…can I come in?" The blonde girl leaned silently across the seat and lifted the latch, and Rachel slipped in, wrapping her arms around the shivering girl with an involuntary sigh of relief.

"Sorry," Quinn whispered, laying her head limply against Rachel's shoulder.

"For what?" Rachel asked, genuinely flabbergasted.

"For ruining your family's Christmas. For ruining your life."

"Quinn. What happened wasn't your fault." Rachel grabbed her girlfriend's chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to make eye contact. It made the dark-haired girl's stomach twist to see the pain in Quinn's hazel eyes, red and puffy from crying.

"Of course it was," Quinn sighed, closing her eyes again. "Everything your grandfather said was true…I'm ruining your whole life, Rachel."

"Look, just _stop_ it, okay? Stop punishing yourself! You made _one_ mistake, one tiny mistake that millions of other girls have made before, and most of the time no one ever knows about it. Just because your luck was really crappy…it doesn't mean this one mistake should get to define who you are now. My Poppy was a big jerk, and I'm _so_ sorry. I really, really wanted this to be a perfect Christmas…for you."

"Oh, baby…it's okay," Quinn smiled weakly, leaning her forehead against Rachel's and closing her eyes.

"Shh, c'mere…Jesus, you're freezing," Rachel groaned, rubbing her hands up and down Quinn's arms to get her circulation going. "C'mon, I've got your coat, and our car has the heat on. We can come back for your car after the plows come through." Quinn followed Rachel willingly to the warmth of the other car, where Jacob and Michael were waiting anxiously.

"Quinn, honey, I'm so sorry about how my father behaved tonight," Michael said as soon as both girls were safely in the back seat.

"It's not your fault," Quinn sighed, leaning her head against Rachel's shoulder in obvious exhaustion.

"Yes it is. We should've had this talk a long time ago, but…well, I guess we were trying to give you the time to think it through yourself, not push you into making a decision before you were ready. But we messed up on this one, kiddo. We should have at least talked about all the options before now. Then my dad wouldn't have been able to blind-side you like that. Really, honey, we feel just terrible."

"It's okay," Quinn insisted again, shivering a little as the warmth of the car started to bring her cold fingers and toes back to life. "I don't want anyone to feel bad anymore. We can talk about the baby tomorrow…right now I just wanna go home."

"That sounds good," Rachel agreed, throwing Quinn's coat over the shivering blonde girl like a blanket. "And then you need a nice hot shower to warm you up."

"Do you think there will be any food left when we get back?" Quinn asked meekly. Rachel laughed in sheer relief, and her dads grinned silently at each other as they pulled back onto the road.

"I'm sure they'll leave us a few scraps," Jacob chortled, winking over the seat.


	8. Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 8

By JewWitch

* * *

When they got home, Quinn went straight upstairs to take a hot shower, still shivering from her extended, self-inflicted exile in the snow. Rachel didn't follow her, which, to Quinn, served as further proof that she really was ruining the Berry's Christmas, and they were all just too polite to say so to her face. She spent a long time in the shower, soaking up the steam and cradling her swollen stomach, and searching for the resolve to make the decision she knew she'd been putting off for far too long already.

When she was thoroughly warmed up, and too hungry to stay in the shower any longer, she got out and dried off, surprised to find Rachel sitting on the edge of her bed with a tray of food beside her. They locked eyes, and Quinn could see that Rachel was still waiting to see whether she was going to fall apart again, ready to offer her anything. It gave her a rush of deep affection, and a desire to put the other girl at ease for whatever was left of their Christmas. She smiled, a weary, but honest smile, and Rachel beamed back at her like the sun.

"I've heard of breakfast in bed, but Christmas dinner in bed is, like, totally off the charts of pampering behavior, Rach. What am I gonna have to do to pay you back for this?"

"You don't have to do anything, Quinn," Rachel said shyly, cocking her head as her wide smile turned bashful and her cheeks flushed crimson. "But if you're offering…I'd settle for a kiss."

"Cheap date, aren't you?" Quinn teased, smiling back just as shyly as she crossed the room and sat beside the dark-haired girl on the bed, taking her face in both hands and claiming her lips in a gentle, tender kiss, that deepened into something more intense than either of them had been expecting. Too drained (and too hungry) for a real make-out session, Quinn eventually broke away from Rachel's soft, delicious lips, ending with a quick kiss to the end of her nose, which made the smaller girl giggle.

They shared their unorthodox Christmas dinner without talking much, both physically and emotionally drained from the events of the evening. When Quinn had inhaled every particle of food left on the plate, and leaned back against the headboard with a contented sigh, Rachel glanced up and gazed at her speculatively for a silent moment.

"Hey Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"When was the first time you ever thought about kissing me?"

"What?" Quinn's eyes, which had just closed in drowsy contentment, flew open again. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"I thought it was fairly straightforward," Rachel shrugged, smirking a little when she saw how red the blonde girl's face was turning. "And from the way you're blushing, I think it's a little too late to pretend you don't remember. I'm just curious, that's all."

"You're just _insane_," Quinn replied, but her lips were betraying her by curling into a little half-smile as she shook her head. "Or else you're just looking for a really weird way to take my mind off what happened tonight."

"Could be," Rachel cocked her head, scooting a little closer to Quinn on the bed. "But I wanna know. C'mon, I'll tell you mine…"

"Okay, fine. Tell me."

"But I asked you first."

"So?"

"So…the person who asks first doesn't answer first! That's not how it works!"

"I would assume the person who most wants to know would do whatever was necessary to get their answer," Quinn shrugged, raising her eyebrow playfully. Whether it had been Rachel's intention or not, it was definitely cheering her up to see the dark-haired girl squirm like this.

"Okay," Rachel said finally, looking up at Quinn with her big, dark eyes full of hope and tentative trust. "I'll tell you first…but you have to _promise_ you're not gonna wuss out."

"Cross my heart," Quinn agreed, drawing an X over her breast. She noticed Rachel's eyes lingering there a little longer than strictly necessary, but it didn't annoy her the way it did when the boys did it—instead, she felt a rush of warmth flooding from her face straight down into her lap, where it settled between her legs. She gulped quietly.

"Okay, then," Rachel said in a rush. "The first time I thought about kissing you was…um…when Kyle Karovsky pushed me off the swingset and you kicked him in the shins." Quinn's jaw dropped.

"Wait, you mean…"

"Third grade," Rachel nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"Are you fucking with me?" Quinn asked quietly, blinking her hazel eyes at Rachel incredulously.

"I'm incapable of fucking with you, Quinn. I thought that was pretty damn obvious by now." Rachel ducked her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, which Quinn had come to recognize as her (rarely seen) insecure expression. It made her heart clench painfully, and she leaned in and pressed her forehead against her girlfriend's, drawing her hand in to lace their fingers together.

"Oh, Rachel…" she sighed, suddenly fighting tears again.

"Yeah, well. You're really cute when you're mad, you know. Now it's your turn! Tell me." Quinn smiled softly at Rachel's anxious expression, and looked right into her bottomless brown eyes when she answered.

"The first time I wanted to kiss you was the first time I heard you sing."

"You mean, in glee?" Rachel frowned, looking slightly confused. "With Finn?"

"Nope," Quinn shook her head, feeling her own cheeks flushing a little as the truth bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. "I mean the first time I _ever_ heard you sing."

"You mean…"

"When we did The Wizard of Oz for our class play."

"But—but that was…"

"Third grade," Quinn nodded, smiling sheepishly. "It was the day before Kyle pushed you off the swingset." Rachel just gaped at her.

_Quinn's sister picked her up that day, because her mom had a PTA fundraiser meeting. Grace was sixteen when Quinn was nine, and the little girl worshipped her pretty, popular big sister with goddess-level devotion. She was always proud to walk home beside her, especially when the teenager wore her Cheerios uniform, so the whole world knew that Grace Fabray was special. Quinn hoped she'd be special one day, too, though Grace always told her that she already was._

_ "So, did you get the part?" Grace asked as soon as Quinn ran to meet her._

_ "No, I didn't get Dorothy. I'm Glinda the good witch. But I still get some songs."_

_ "Aww, Quinnie! That's crap, it should've been you. Who else can sing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' like you can? And what other girl in your class is half as pretty?"_

_ "Rachel is," Quinn replied immediately, her little cheeks turning red as she reached up for her sister's hand. "It's okay Grace, I'm glad she's Dorothy. She's so pretty…and she has the nicest, prettiest voice. When I heard her sing, it made my tummy feel funny." The oldest girl cocked her head, glancing down at her little sister with a guarded expression._

_ "What do you mean, funny? Like you were jealous?"_

_ "No," Quinn shook her head slowly, grinning shyly. "Like…like I wanted to kiss her." The slap across her face was so sudden, and so unexpected, it made Quinn freeze in her tracks, as if her little Mary Janes had just been glued to the sidewalk. She reached up and pressed her hand to her stinging cheek, staring up at her sister in pained confusion._

_ "Girls do not kiss other girls, do you understand? Don't you ever, ever say that again, Quinn! Do you hear me?" Grace's face was turning red, too, and Quinn could tell that she was truly angry, in a way that had never been directed at her before. _

_ "But…but why?" She asked, completely nonplussed. She was sure Grace wouldn't be saying this if she'd heard Rachel sing for herself. No one could hear Rachel sing and not want to kiss her; that was obvious._

_ "Because it's against God. The bible says it's wrong."_

_ "But why?"_

_ "Because girls are only supposed to kiss boys, dummy!"_

_ "But why?"_

_ "Stop asking why, Quinn! That's just the way it is. If you kiss girls you'll go to Hell, and you'll never see Nanny and Poppy again, and Mommy and Daddy won't love you anymore. Even Jesus won't love you. Is that what you want?" Quinn shook her head, terrified, as fat tears welled up in her hazel eyes and spilled down her small cheeks. _

_ "I—I—I'm s-sorry," Quinn stuttered, crying in earnest as she thought about how angry God must be with her already, just for thinking about kissing Rachel. But if God didn't want her to have these feelings, why would He make Rachel so pretty and perfect? Why would He make her sing like an angel and let Quinn watch? It didn't make any sense. _

_ "Oh, fuck, don't cry," Grace sighed, kneeling down on the sidewalk and hugging her sobbing little sister, patting her back to calm her down. "It's okay, Quinnie. All you have to do is say you're sorry, and God will forgive you. And you won't ever think about kissing Rachel again, right?"_

_ "Right," Quinn sniffled, wiping her nose bravely on her sleeve and nodding earnestly. She was already getting another stomachache. But it wasn't a nice one like she'd had when Rachel was singing._

_ The next day, she did her best not to look at Rachel, or talk to her, or think about her. They didn't really know each other, so the not talking part was easy. But then at recess, that big, stupid bully Kyle Karovsky had to go and pick on the tiny dark-haired girl, and Quinn felt her heart clench in her chest when she saw the large boy push Rachel off her swing into the gravel, face-first. When Rachel looked up from the ground with a bloody lip, Quinn forgot about Jesus, and walked right up to the big bully, kicking him squarely in the shins as hard as she could. She wasn't very big, but she was strong for her size, and he squealed in pain and stumbled backwards amid the sounds of laughter from the watching crowd of children. As soon as he was gone, Quinn looked down at Rachel, who was now looking back up at her. The dark-haired little girl was smiling, a small, pained smile because of her split lip, but a real, Rachel smile nonetheless. Quinn's stomach did a little back flip, just like the one during auditions yesterday when she'd heard the other girl sing. Then she remembered the sting of her sister's slap. She remembered that God didn't love her when she thought about Rachel that way. _

_ Without exchanging a single word, Quinn turned and fled the playground. From then on, whenever her stomach bubbled up with funny feelings around Rachel, she told herself it was because she hated the other girl. She didn't like her. She hated her. That was the best she could do…because not feeling anything was just not an option. _

"Are you honestly telling me," Rachel said slowly, back in Quinn's bedroom in the Berry house, "that you've liked me since third grade?"

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, not sure whether to smile or cry. "And also why I've been a complete asshole since third grade. I'm so sorry, Rach…I'm sorry I was so weak and spineless and"—Quinn didn't get to finish her rant, because Rachel was jumping into her lap and kissing her for all she was worth.

"You're amazing," the dark haired girl whispered when she finally pulled her lips away from Quinn's. "You're brave and beautiful and amazing, and I fucking love you." She smoothed her fingers through her girlfriend's silky blonde hair, dropping soft kisses all over her face.

_"You're_ amazing," Quinn countered, shaking her head. "And I love you, too…but are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm sure," Rachel murmured, planting a light kiss under Quinn's ear. The blonde girl gasped and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's slim waist. "But if you need a little convincing…I think I might be able to prove it." They didn't get out of bed again until Christmas morning.


	9. Chocolate vs Strawberries

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 9

By JewWitch

Author's note: This chap incorporates the back-story of Shelby as Rachel's birth mom, but goes significantly AU. So, no spoilers. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story! I'll try to be more consistent, and it will definitely be completed :)

…

Rachel woke up alone in Quinn's bed on Christmas morning, and pouted for a minute before she realized how utterly unsatisfying it was to pout when there was no one there to see it. So she crawled out of bed, brushed her teeth, and went downstairs, still feeling grumpy and slightly unappreciated. After the long hours of searching for Quinn out in the blizzard the night before, Rachel sort of felt she'd earned some extra affection…not that she hadn't already gotten it last night…but she woke up wanting more, and she felt bad that Quinn obviously didn't want _her_ quite as much. Her pouty expression dissolved when she walked into the kitchen and saw her girlfriend standing between her two dads at the stove, an expression of intense concentration on her face as she flipped a perfect, paper-thin crepe in the skillet in front of her. There was a dusty smudge of flour on one side of her nose, and she was actually wearing the old Santa Claus hat with the bell on the end that Rachel's dads used to wear years ago, when they dressed up as Santa for her when she was little.

When the crepe flipped without breaking, Quinn's focused gaze broke into a huge smile, lighting up her hazel eyes with happiness. Instantly, Rachel forgot to be cranky.

"Merry Christmas," she said shyly, crossing the room to hug her dads and kiss Quinn good morning. She rubbed the flour off the blonde girl's nose with her thumb, and they both giggled.

"Look, Rach, I made Christmas Crepes!" Quinn gushed happily, waving her spatula at the serving platter by the stove piled with crepes, each one wrapped up like a tiny, elegant burrito. "Jacob showed me how."

"This one's a natural in the kitchen," Jacob agreed, holding the platter up for Rachel's inspection. "She only broke one before she got it! Now there are twice as many as usual. It's nice to have a helper who doesn't act like it's a violation of the Geneva Convention to have to hold a spatula."

"Mmmm," Rachel sighed, ignoring her dad's slight and putting her face close to the plate to inhale the fragrance of her favorite holiday breakfast. "Don't think that just because you made them all, you get to eat them all, missy." She raised an eyebrow teasingly. "There's not much I won't do for Nutella."

"Duly noted," Quinn smirked, taking the plate from Jacob and bringing it to the table. "Don't worry, I made a whole plate of those for you. These have strawberries and banana." Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"You'd rather have _fruit_ than chocolate? What kind of pregnant woman are you?" Rachel scoffed, while her dads burst out laughing.

"Right _now_ I'd rather have fruit," Quinn shrugged demurely, going back to the stove to pull the second plate of crepes out of the oven, where they'd been kept warm. "That doesn't mean I won't want something else in an hour. So if you want 'em, you better eat them while you have a chance." She put the plate down on the table, looking extremely proud of herself. "Merry Christmas!"

The four of them sat down and ate, all of them complimenting Quinn on the perfect crepes, until she grew shy and insisted that Jacob had done most of the work, anyway. As soon as she'd finished the last bite on her plate, Rachel grabbed her hand and dragged her to the living room to attack the pile of presents under the tree. When all the gifts were exchanged, all the wrappings shredded, and all the pictures taken, Michael and Jacob shared a knowing look, and nodded to each other.

"Quinn, honey, Michael and I have one more present for you. We hope it will help you decide what you want to do when the baby is born…and, well, here." Jacob handed Quinn a heavy rectangular present in brightly wrapped paper, which she could tell right away was a book.

"_The Open Adoption Experience: A Complete Guide for Adoptive and Birth Families_," She read slowly, her eyes grazing over the cover photo of several smiling children of different races, seated on and around an equally diverse group of adults. "I don't understand," she said slowly, looking between Jacob and Michael for some explanation.

"Open adoption is when the birth mother picks the family her baby will go to, and the child grows up knowing they're adopted. You'd get to visit, you'd get letters and photos from the adoptive parents letting you know how she's doing as she grows up. She would know who you are, and when she gets older and wants to know about you—which is perfectly natural for adopted children—she won't have to wonder. She can just call you up and ask you."

Quinn looked back down at the book, and her eyes filled with tears. "I…didn't know that was something I could…" Her voice choked up a little, and she put the book down and covered her face with both hands.

"You made her cry!" Rachel hissed at her dads in a stage-whisper. "On Christmas morning!" She got up from the floor, where she'd been inspecting her new noise-cancelling Skullcandy earbuds, and sat beside the blonde girl on the couch, kissing her hair and rubbing her back.

"It's okay, Rach," Quinn sniffed, wiping away the tears streaming down her face and giving the anxious singer a watery smile. "I'm not crying because I'm upset. I'm just…I don't know what I am, but it's not bad. I never heard of this before. Are you sure this is a real thing?" She was looking back to Rachel's dads now, her eyes full of cautious wonder.

"Of course, sweetheart, it's real. We looked into it when we were getting ready to have miss diva, here," Jacob smiled at Rachel, who rolled her eyes impatiently. "But we ended up deciding against it, because at that time, there had never been a baby placed with a gay male couple, and we were worried that no birth mom would ever pick us. That's why we chose to have a surrogate—it gave us more control. And we've kept in touch with her over the years, even though we didn't have to, because we didn't want Rachel to grow up with unanswered questions about the woman who gave birth to her, and why she did it, and who she is."

"Really?" Quinn was looking at Rachel now, her eyes full of wonder. "You've talked to your birth mom? You know who she is, and everything?"

"I…yeah," Rachel nodded awkwardly, her face flushing uncomfortably. "I never brought it up around you because I didn't want to be insensitive. But, yeah, we talk a few times a year. She lives in New York—we go there once a year to see theater and ballet and opera, and we always have dinner with her at Carmine's. Her name is Shelby. She's…a lot like me." Rachel smiled sheepishly. "Total drama queen. But she's talented—last year she was in an off-Broadway production of _Our Town_. It was very well reviewed." She said this last part is if it was an automatic equation from_ well-reviewed theatrical performance_ to _superior human being_.

"I can't believe you never told me," Quinn shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said sincerely, biting her lip anxiously.

"No, it's okay, I get why you didn't want to bring it up, with me and the baby and everything. But…if I did this open adoption thing…I'd get to pick the family?"

"Absolutely," Jacob nodded, flipping open the book and pointing to a chapter heading. "You start by reading letters from all the families in the pool, who are waiting to adopt; and when you see one you like, the agency arranges for you to meet. You can ask them anything you want, and get to know them before you make any decisions. And when the time comes and the adoption paperwork is drawn up, it stipulates how many visits and photos you'll get every year, as the baby grows. It's legally binding—the adoptive family can't just disappear."

"Wow…" Quinn sighed, unconsciously stroking her stomach in the soothing, absentminded way she'd developed as she'd started to show. "This is…really overwhelming. Thank you both, so much, for everything. I, I don't really know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, sweetheart," Michael said, speaking for the first time. He was quieter than his husband and daughter, and tended to wait until he really had something to say before opening his mouth. "Just read the book. Then we can all talk more about what you want to do next." Quinn nodded, her eyes filling up with tears again. Rachel didn't say anything, for once; she just leaned over and kissed Quinn's cheek. Shakily, the blonde girl rose from the couch and reached for her girlfriend's hand, and Rachel jumped to her feet to take it. They left the room in silence, until they passed through the kitchen, where the open jar of Nutella sat on the counter.

"Remember before, when I said I might want chocolate later?" Quinn asked petulantly, smiling shyly and wiping the last of the tears from her eyes.

"Maybe," Rachel smirked, picking up the jar and holding it coyly out of Quinn's reach. "You want it?" She asked teasingly, taking a few backwards steps toward the staircase. Quinn nodded, biting her lip in anticipation at Rachel's devious expression. "Then come and get it, blondie." With that, Rachel turned on her heels and bolted up the staircase, Quinn giggling at her heels.


	10. 101 Things to do with Nutella

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 10

By JewWitch

…

Rachel ran all the way up the stairs and straight to her bedroom, bouncing onto the bed with the jar of Nutella still gripped tightly in her hands. By the time Quinn reached her, the lid was off, and Rachel was swirling her finger around in the thick chocolate spread, grinning impishly at her girlfriend's nervous expression.

"Well? Don't you want it?" she asked teasingly, holding out one chocolate-covered finger to the blonde girl, who stood biting her lip at the foot of the bed, her cheeks rapidly flushing pink. Though no one at McKinley would probably believe it, Quinn and Rachel hadn't gone all the way. Yet. Sure, they both knew they could; they lived in the same house, and slept in the same bed whenever they wanted to, which was fairly often. But despite their confidant, dominant personalities when they were out in the world, in their own private life together, they were both a little shy. Rachel knew that Quinn still felt ashamed of the way she lost her virginity, and she didn't want to disrespect her by pressuring her to put out, especially given their living situation—what if Quinn thought she'd end up homeless again if she said no? Rachel couldn't stand the idea of getting into Quinn's pants that way. She wanted Quinn to want it, to want _her._

For Quinn, the idea that Rachel could desire her, really and truly, with her ever-expanding baby bump in the way was pretty much inconceivable. She knew Rachel loved her; she couldn't doubt that after all they'd been through together in the last few months. But she also knew how giving and selfless the dark-haired girl really was deep down, especially when it came to Quinn herself, and she did _not_ want Rachel's first time to be a pity fuck. She wanted Rachel to want it. And if that meant waiting a few more months, till after the baby was born…and maybe a few more months after that, so she could get back into shape…that was what she would do.

At the moment, however, Quinn wasn't thinking (all _that_ much) about how fat and ugly she felt…she was thinking about the chocolate, and Rachel's fingers. Together. She looked up from the tempting treat into her girlfriend's dark eyes, sparkling with mischief and lust, all for her. Smiling shyly, Quinn took Rachel's hand in both of hers, and sucked the chocolate-coated finger into her mouth.

Rachel's gasp of pleasure sent an answering surge of liquid desire through Quinn, settling insistently between her legs, where it throbbed deliciously. The blonde girl took her time, sucking every last speck of chocolate off the warm, smooth skin in her mouth, dipping into the sensitive spot between Rachel's fingers with her tongue.

"Holy shit, Quinn," Rachel whispered, making the throbbing between the blonde girl's legs intensify uncomfortably. She pulled her lips back from the now damp skin of Rachel's hand, and smirked at the dark red flush creeping up her girlfriend's face.

"I bet you want some too, huh Rach?" Quinn asked innocently, taking the jar from Rachel's other hand and dipping her own finger into the thick chocolate spread, and blushing a little at the wanton look her girlfriend was giving her. "I mean, you _did_ say there wasn't much you wouldn't do for it…" Quinn trailed off, dragging her chocolate-covered finger across her bottom lip. Instantly, Rachel's mouth was on hers, sucking the chocolate and the lip together between her teeth. Now it was Quinn's turn to moan, her free hand snaking into Rachel's thick hair as she returned the kiss with interest. She wanted to throw Rachel down on the bed and straddle her, grind their bodies together until the throbbing heat inside her exploded; but she couldn't do that with her giant stomach in the way. The bump of her belly against Rachel's flat stomach made Quinn freeze, just as Rachel was reaching for her hips to pull her closer.

"Oh…sorry," Rachel panted, breaking away from the kiss to glance up uncertainly at Quinn's guarded expression. "I, I didn't mean to push…I thought you liked it…"

"I did—I do," Quinn assured her hastily, hating the insecure look in Rachel's dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Rach…it's just so hard to feel sexy next to you, with my stomach the size of a planet."

"Are you kidding me?" Rachel asked, staring at Quinn dumbfounded. "You, Quinn Fabray, don't think you're sexy?" Quinn shrugged, avoiding Rachel's eyes.

"I'm just being realistic. After I have the baby, and get back into shape, sure, I'll be hot again…but right now…"

"Right now, you're gorgeous," Rachel whispered, taking Quinn's face in both hands and forcing her to look up. "You're glowing Quinn…you're like a Greek fertility goddess."

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better, Rach," Quinn sighed glumly, handing over the jar of Nutella, which Rachel impatiently put aside on her dresser.

"I'm _not_ saying it to make you feel better, Quinn! I'm saying it because it's true. If you don't want me, fine, but don't tell me I can't want you. Because there's nothing I can do about that…in fact, I kind of think I deserve a medal or something for the amount of restraint I've displayed thus far." Rachel crossed her arms huffily, with _her no one appreciates me_ scowl settling across her face.

"Restraint?" Quinn asked blankly, raising her eyebrows in frank astonishment. Rachel rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Yes, Quinn, restraint. The act of holding back or controlling one's feelings or behavior."

"I know what it means," Quinn huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "I just didn't know that you were…holding back."

"Of _course_ I'm holding back! Hello, I've wanted you since the third grade, remember?"

"Yeah, but, I…I mean…with the baby and everything…I thought you'd want to wait till after…" Quinn's voice became softer as her insecurities bubbled up to the surface, letting some of the air out of Rachel's righteous indignation.

"I don't want to wait," Rachel said gently, sitting down on the bed and pulling Quinn down beside her. "I thought _you_ wanted to wait. I was just trying to be, you know…chivalrous or whatever."

"I don't want to wait," Quinn shook her head, a small snort of laughter bubbling up as they grinned shyly at each other. "I've _never_ wanted to wait. I just didn't think I could make it as good for you as you could for me…not right now, I mean. And I really, really want it to be good for you, Rach." The enormous blush on Rachel's face more than made up the embarrassment Quinn felt at admitting her fears.

"Who says I'm gonna be good the first time? I mean, sure, I've been studying _Lesbian Sex 101_ for over a month now, but like any physical activity, studying and actually performing are quite different, and it took me years of study to master ballet and tap, so I assume there will be some sort of learning curve involved in"—

"Rachel!" Quinn interrupted her girlfriend's rant, smiling disbelievingly. Rachel stopped, took a breath, and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You really have a book called _Lesbian Sex 101?"_

"Well, yeah," Rachel shrugged sheepishly. "You know me, Quinn…I prefer to go into every new situation armed with as much information as possible. Though, as previously stated, I expect it will still take a while to learn the proper technique to put my theories into practice."

"And you didn't think I might like to study up a little, too? It's not like I'm Brittney or Santana, you know. I only had sex once, with a dumb guy who got me drunk on wine coolers till I was practically passed out. I don't even really remember it. And I certainly don't know anything about having sex with women."

"I guess I was worried you'd think it was stupid or something," Rachel shrugged, grinning bashfully. "But…if you're interested…I have another book that, um, might help us out a little bit more…if we're, um, both not wanting to wait." Blushing, Rachel stood and crossed to her dresser, opening her underwear drawer and pulling out a thick book. Wordlessly, she handed it to Quinn, who read the title:_ Your Orgasmic Pregnancy: Little Sex Secrets Every Hot Mama Should Know_. When Quinn looked back up at Rachel, she was blushing, too, despite being amused at how similar Rachel and her dad were, both of them trying to solve all her problems with the right book.

"I wanna read this book," the blonde girl said firmly, before tossing it aside and giving her girlfriend a smoldering look. "But not right now." Beaming, Rachel pushed Quinn back against the headboard and climbed into her lap, kissing her for all she was worth. Quinn kissed her back, slipping her hands around Rachel's hips and raking her nails lightly up her girlfriend's spine, feeling her shiver of delight. Rachel's hands moved from Quinn's hair down to her stomach, slipping up under her shirt and trailing her fingers all over the smooth skin of Quinn's baby bump.

"You are so, so beautiful," Rachel whispered into Quinn's mouth, before pulling away to raise the blonde girl's shirt enough so she could kiss her swollen stomach. Then she looked up, smiling, and gripped the edges of Quinn's shirt with both hands. "Can I?" Quinn nodded, and raised her hands over her head, her expression still shy and a little nervous. "Just relax," Rachel murmured, giving Quinn one more soft, quick kiss before tugging the shirt up over her head.

"You're so beautiful," Rachel sighed, trailing her fingers down to Quinn's bellybutton and staring unabashedly at the sheer material of her bra.

"You said that already," Quinn pointed out, smiling shyly.

"Well it bears repeating," Rachel shrugged, leaning in to steal more kisses from her girlfriend's soft lips. The feel of Quinn's smooth skin was making Rachel crazy, and she couldn't stop her hands from wandering while they kissed. Realizing, finally, that her noble restraint had only served to make Quinn think she didn't really want her as much as she actually did, Rachel decided that this was okay. More than okay. Emboldened with desire, Rachel grabbed both of Quinn's hands and put them under the edge of her own shirt, which she was hoping she wouldn't have to remove herself. Quinn grinned and bit her lip—God, she was so adorable when she was trying to be bold! And slowly, peeled off Rachel's shirt, revealing a tone, tanned stomach and a lacy black bra.

"I can't believe how gorgeous you are," Quinn sighed, shaking her head in wonder as she reached out and trailed her fingers along the undersides of Rachel's breasts. Rachel gasped and closed her eyes, and Quinn jerked her hands back in worry. "Sorry, was that too fast? I didn't mean to"—

"No, shh, it wasn't too fast," Rachel assured her, grabbing Quinn's hands and pressing them firmly back to her chest. "Please…" The desire was so plain on Rachel's face, Quinn couldn't doubt her.

"Okay, baby," Quinn murmured, kissing her again. Then she let her hands wander, trailing her fingers all over Rachel's sensitive breasts, making the dark-haired girl shiver and sigh. The lacy material of the bra was rough against Quinn's skin, and she soon grew impatient for the softness of her girlfriend's skin against her own. "Can I?" she asked softly, her fingers resting on the front-clasp of Rachel's bra.

Rachel nodded, smiling shyly as Quinn had a moment before. As soon as Quinn had the clasp undone, she slipped the bra back off Rachel's shoulders, and cupped her girlfriend's pert breasts in her hands. The effect was immediate. Rachel groaned and arched her back, pushing herself harder against Quinn, who felt the tightening of Rachel's rosy little nipples against her palms.

"Jesus," Quinn gasped, utterly overwhelmed with the intoxicating sensations coursing through her body. "You feel so good…"

"Fuck, yeah, oh my God Quinn…" Rachel whimpered, wrapping both arms around her girlfriend's neck and kissing her deeply, swirling her tongue around Quinn's until the blonde girl moaned throatily. All the while, her fingers continued exploring and teasing Rachel's breasts, which were soft and smooth and perky and the perfect size for Quinn's palms. "If you don't stop soon," Rachel panted, pulling her lips away from Quinn's, "I'm gonna come…" Her breath was hot against Quinn's flushed face.

"Really?" Quinn asked, pulling back a few inches so she could see the glazed expression on the shorter girl's face. Her dark eyes were so full of lust and pleasure, Quinn felt the wetness pooling between her legs again. That had never happened with Finn or Puck. She used to think that was the way it was supposed to be; boys liked sex, and girls didn't. She never knew it was supposed to feel good for her, too.

_"Yesssss,"_ Rachel hissed, arching her back and squirming uncomfortably in Quinn's lap.

"Sweet," Quinn smiled devilishly, leaning down and replacing her left hand with her lips on Rachel's breast, swirling the tip of her tongue around the rock-hard nipple, then sucking it into her mouth. Rachel shrieked with pleasure, both her hands going into Quinn's hair to hold her there, as if Quinn had any intention of leaving. With her free hand, Quinn reached around Rachel's back, pulling her in tightly and trying to hold her steady as she writhed. Meanwhile, her lips and tongue continued to feast on her girlfriend's utterly perfect pink nipple.

"Oh God Quinn, ohhhhhhhh yes yes _yessssss_…don't stop, please don't stop," Rachel gasped, hoping she wasn't gripping her girlfriend's blonde hair too tightly, but too far gone to be able to form the words necessary to ask. Quinn, for her part, was too far gone to even notice that her hair was being pulled. She was lost in the world of Rachel's skin in her mouth, gripping the perfect little nub lightly between her teeth, and fluttering her tongue against it like a hummingbird. Rachel's whole body arched, her hands leaving Quinn's hair to grip the headboard as a strangled cry escaped from her throat. Quinn held her up as wave after wave of shudders coursed through Rachel's whole body, until she collapsed, sighing weakly, with her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"You sure you never did that before?" The dark-haired girl asked finally, her voice much softer and dreamier than usual.

"Oh, I'm sure," Quinn sighed, her heart still hammering in her chest from the heady experience of having Rachel writhing in her lap. "Did you really…I mean, it felt like you did…didn't you?" Rachel lifted her head at Quinn's shyly garbled question, grinning broadly, and took her face in both hands, kissing her gently.

"Oh yeah, I got there. It was amazing, Quinn. _You_ were amazing. Though I have to admit…I thought that when I told you I was gonna come, you'd want to stop. And make me pray or something."

"What!" Quinn laughed, shaking her head at Rachel's sheepish expression. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, 'cause Finn told me that's what you used to do whenever he got…you know…worked up."

"Oh." Now it was Quinn's turn to look sheepish. "Well, yeah, that's true. But I think I was just using religion as an avoidance strategy. So I wouldn't have to think about why I didn't like doing stuff with him…you know?"

"Mmm," Rachel nodded thoughtfully, putting her head down on Quinn's shoulder again and playing absently with her bellybutton. "But you like doing stuff with me…right?"

"Yes," Quinn whispered, closing her eyes as Rachel's fingers continued to wander across her skin.

"Good," Rachel nodded, lifting her head to give Quinn a long, slow kiss. "Because right now I really, really wanna show you how good what you just did to me feels…can I?"

"Oh, Jesus, yes," Quinn groaned, feeling her heart start to hammer again as Rachel reached around to unclasp her bra.

"I'm not Jesus. I'm Rachel," the dark-haired girl smirked. "But if you stick around, I might be able to perform a few miracles for you…" Downstairs, Rachel's dads turned up the volume a little higher on the kitchen stereo.


	11. DingDong

Hey peeps,

Thanks so much for all the awesome feedback! Hope you enjoy this next bit…please keep reviewing, it's a great motivator for me to write more :)

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 11**

**By JewWitch**

…

Quinn was close. Very, very close…closer, in fact, to an actual, for-real, earth-shattering orgasm than she had ever been in her young life. Rachel's talented fingers were delicately tracing the soft swells of Quinn's breasts (delicately, because they'd quickly discovered that her pregnancy hormones made them unusually sensitive and tender, and Rachel didn't want to hurt her with over-enthusiasm). Quinn was gasping and babbling incoherently (which Rachel found both super-hot and utterly adorable), when a knock on the bedroom door made them both freeze. Quinn's expression was mortified, while Rachel's was livid.

"Go away, we're busy!" Rachel yelled, immediately turning her attention back to the trembling, half-naked girl in her arms.

_"Rachel!"_ Quinn hissed. "Don't talk to your dad that way!" The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's flustered expression.

"Sorry kids, you're gonna have to get un-busy for a minute," Jacob's voice called through the door, which thankfully was locked. "Santana's on the phone for Quinn, and she says it's urgent." Now it was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes.

"Thanks Dad," Rachel called, reluctantly pulling away from Quinn's warm skin and reaching for her shirt, then tossing the phone to her girlfriend, who glared at it like it had just told her there was a worldwide chocolate ice cream shortage going into effect.

"This had better be a fucking emergency," the blonde girl growled into the phone, pulling her own shirt over her head awkwardly.

"Sorry, mija. Were you getting lucky?" Santana teased, and Quinn could practically hear her frat-boy smirk through the phone line.

"I am going to murder you in your sleep, Santi," Quinn snapped, making the Latina girl chuckle even more, which infuriated Quinn until she heard the sound of a smack, followed by Santana's squeal of _"Ouch! Brit!"_ through the phone.

"Okay, okay, sorry Quinn. I just thought you'd want to know that your sister's on her way over to see you."

"Wh…what?"

"You know, your sister, Grace? Blonde hair, about 5'6", looks exactly like you plus seven or eight years?"

"But how…how do you…" Quinn stuttered, her face rapidly draining of color. Rachel took the phone from her limp hand.

"Santana? What the hell did you say to Quinn?" Rachel demanded, looking at her girlfriend as if afraid she might pass out any second.

"Dude, don't kill the messenger!" Santana exclaimed indignantly. "I'm just trying to give you guys a heads' up. Quinn's sister called here looking for her a little while ago, and I'm pretty sure she's on her way over to your house right now. So, um, you might wanna make sure you're both wearing underwear and everything." Rachel took a long, slow, deep breath while Santana continued to snicker.

"Thank you very much for the warning," Rachel said coolly. "I'll try to make sure Quinn doesn't murder you in your sleep. How long ago did she call?" But before Santana could answer, they all heard the doorbell. Rachel looked at Quinn, her face an unreadable mask. "Bye Santana," the singer squeaked, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response. "Quinn? Are you gonna be okay?"

Quinn just kept staring at the bedroom door with her mouth half-open, white-faced. She didn't look at Rachel, or say a word. "Quinn?" Rachel tried again anxiously, gently shaking her shoulder. "C'mon, say something baby. Tell me what you need right now. I'll do whatever you want, okay?"

"I…I…uh…" Before Quinn could manage to form a sentence, there was another knock on the door.

"Quinn, honey, you have a visitor," Jacob's voice said gently from the other side of the door. "Do you want to come down?" Quinn's hand squeezed Rachel's painfully, and she finally snapped out of her blank stare, turning to look into her girlfriend's dark brown eyes with her confused, frightened hazel ones.

"You'll come down with me?" She asked faintly.

"Of course I will," Rachel nodded, relieved that Quinn wanted her there and had recovered her powers of speech. "Okay, Dad, we'll be down in a minute!" she yelled. After Jacob's footsteps retreated down the hall, the two girls looked at each other anxiously for a moment.

"We should probably put our bras back on," Quinn remarked out of nowhere. Rachel bit back a satisfied smirk.

Five minutes later, they came downstairs hand in hand, hearing the soft rise and fall of polite voices coming from the living room. Rachel's eyes widened when she saw Quinn's sister sitting on the loveseat; the woman was practically a carbon copy of her girlfriend, like someone had made a clone of Quinn and then hit the fast-forward button a few years. Her hair was a few shades lighter, and her eyes were blue, not hazel; but other than that, they were practically twins. Same delicate cheekbones, same cute little nose, same flawless skin. The only real distinguishing feature Quinn had (beside her hazel eyes, which Rachel found far more compelling than boring old blue) was her protruding baby bump, which Rachel noticed the other woman's eyes going to haughtily as soon as they walked in the room. It made the dark-haired singer bristle.

"Hi, Quinnie," Grace said softly, forcing a polite smile onto her face that looked more like a grimace. "Merry Christmas." Quinn didn't say anything. Michael cleared his throat, and nudged his husband with his foot. Jacob took the hint and stood up.

"Grace, I don't know if you've met our daughter Rachel," he said graciously, going over to the two girls standing in the doorway and steering them toward the empty end of the l-shaped couch.

"No, I don't think so. It's nice to meet you, Rachel. I'm so grateful to you for looking after my sister." That part, at least, sounded sincere.

"You don't have to thank us," Rachel shrugged, lacing her fingers together with Quinn's again. The blonde girl's hand was cold, her palm damp with sweat. "We love her." The older blonde's eyes hardened slightly at that, and there was another awkward silence.

"Well…" Jacob cleared his throat politely. "We'll just leave you two to talk. Grace, can I offer you anything? Coffee?"

"No thank you." Jacob nodded, and stood to go, glancing from his husband to his daughter. Rachel felt Quinn's fingers tighten around her own.

"I want Rachel to stay," the blonde girl said firmly, the first words she'd spoken.

"Quinn, please, let's talk alone for a minute," Grace replied, her stiff expression melting a little to reveal a much more human look of concern. Quinn looked from her sister, to her girlfriend, to the two men who she'd come to love as fathers. She sighed wearily.

"Fine."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked quietly, putting her lips very close to Quinn's ear. Grace didn't miss the intimate way they were sitting and speaking with each other.

"Yeah. It's okay, Rach. I'll call if I need you."

"Okay, sunshine," Rachel smiled bravely, giving Quinn a chaste kiss on the cheek before she got up and walked out of the room between her dads, giving her girlfriend one final backwards glance as she left, with a small smile of encouragement. It calmed the wriggling worms in Quinn's stomach, but only a little. She rested a hand on her baby bump out of habit, unconsciously soothing herself and the baby.

"So…" Quinn said stiffly when the two blondes were finally alone in the room. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"Oh, Quinnie," Grace sighed, crossing from the loveseat to the couch and throwing her arms around her little sister. "I've missed you so much…"

"You _missed_ me?" Quinn demanded, pushing her sister away as her hazel eyes welled up with angry tears. "Where the hell _were_ you, Grace? I called you like twenty times when Daddy kicked me out!"

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry. Daddy called me too, and he said I wasn't allowed to talk to you, or take you in…"

"You weren't _allowed_ to talk to me?" Quinn repeated incredulously. "You're twenty-three years old, Grace! You're a freaking adult!"

"I know, Quinnie. I'm sorry, okay? I was just scared…and he was so angry…and, you know, it was all such a shock. I mean, you were president of the Celibacy Club! And now I find out that the baby isn't even Finn's…"

"Did you really come here to tell me what a huge disappointment I am?" Quinn asked angrily, folding her arms stiffly across her chest. "Because if so, you can save your breath. I've already been humiliated enough, and I can assure you, this is _never _gonna happen again." She almost had to bite down an ironic smirk as she said this last part. Nope, unprotected sex with boys was definitely not gonna be an issue for Quinn anymore.

"No, no— I'm not here to judge you. You made a mistake, and you know that; but Jesus forgives us our sins when we confess to him. You're a good girl, Quinnie; you always were. I know there's still a place for you in God's kingdom. That's why I want you to come home with me." Grace reached out and tried to take her sister's hand, while Quinn just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"So…you don't care about making Daddy mad anymore?"

"There are more important things in this world than our father's pride, Quinn. You have a baby on the way…and she doesn't deserve to be born in a house of sin." Quinn bristled and pulled her hand back.

"You mean, in this house? With the Berrys?"

"I'm not blaming you, Quinnie. I'm not. You're sixteen, you had nowhere else to go, you were desperate. I'm ashamed that I didn't bring you home with me sooner. But I'm here now, baby bug. You don't have to stay in this house another minute."

Quinn stood up, glaring at her sister incredulously. "No thank you," she said in a quiet, steely tone.

"Quinn, you need to listen to me. I'm your sister, your family. And when the baby comes…"

"What, Grace? What do you think is gonna happen when the baby comes?" Quinn demanded, starting to pace around the room in agitation. It didn't help that half her brain was still hopelessly preoccupied with the interrupted makeout session she and Rachel had been having upstairs…her body was still thrumming, her nipples were still hard, and she still felt the wet pulse of raw need between her legs. She wondered, in the back of her mind, how long they'd have to talk to Rachel's dads after her sister left before they could get back to what they'd been doing, because this was excruciating.

"Listen, Quinn, I didn't want to tell you like this, but…Mark and I can't…" Grace closed her eyes, her face steeling with resolve just like Quinn's did when she had to confront something difficult. In reality, they were both much stronger young women than their domineering father would've liked. "We can't have a baby of our own. We've been trying for almost a year, and we finally got some tests, and…it's not possible."

"Oh." Quinn blinked, some of her hormonal fury beginning to drain away. "Oh, Grace…I'm sorry."

"But don't you see, Quinnie? This is God giving us all a second chance. You get another chance to be a kid, and have a normal life…and I get another chance to be a mom."

"You…you want me to give you my baby?" Quinn gaped incredulously.

"It's the only way, Quinn. If you give her up for adoption, you'll never know if she's with a good Christian family; you'll never see her grow up. And if you keep her, your life will be ruined. This is part of God's plan, I know it is." Quinn shook her head, a million different reactions flashing through her mind at once.

"And some day…if she comes to you and tells you she's gay? What will you do, Grace? Will you hit her in the face and tell her she's going to hell?" The beaming smile slowly melted off the older Fabray's face.

"I thought you forgot about that a long time ago," she said quietly.

"I didn't forget," Quinn shook her head slowly. "You can't just make someone _forget_ that they're gay."

"You're not gay!" Grace shouted, her face flushing crimson.

"Yes I am," Quinn said quietly, with a small, sad smile. "It doesn't matter how much you yell and scream, Gracie. You can't change who I am. This is the way God made me."

"Don't you dare say that!" Grace hissed, and Quinn thought her sister was going to slap her again, just like the last time they had had a conversation like this, all those years ago. But instead, Grace just grabbed her little sister by the wrist, and started dragging her towards the door.

"Grace! What are you doing?" Quinn demanded, struggling to free herself from her sister's iron grip.

"We're leaving. I'm saving you, Quinn. This house is poison!" The older Fabray continued to pull on her sister's arm, dragging her across the carpet as Quinn struggled in the opposite direction.

"No! Stop it, Grace! Let me go! Let me _go!"_ Quinn's heart started to pound with panic; the blood rushing in her ears made it hard to hear the sound of footsteps entering the room behind her.

"Take your hands off her!" Rachel shrieked, forcibly removing Grace's fingers from around Quinn's wrist so the younger blonde could yank her arm back from her sister's grip. Immediately, Quinn took several steps back, until she was shielded behind Jacob and Michael. Rachel ran to her side, and the two girls clung to each other like shipwreck survivors.

"I think you'd better leave now," Michael said evenly, in his deep, commanding baritone. Grace just stared at her sister, who was shaking and crying in the tiny brunette's arms; the same girl Grace had ordered her sister to forget when she was just a little girl.

"Quinn, please," she begged, reaching out her hand one more time. "Please come with me…it's not too late to save your soul." Quinn raised her head from Rachel's hair, and wiped her red eyes on the back of her hand, taking a deep, slow breath.

"I don't need to be saved," the pregnant girl said simply. She watched her sister's sad expression shift to righteous indignation.

"I'll pray for you," Grace said sanctimoniously, then turned and walked out with her chin held high, exactly the way Quinn used to walk down the halls when she was head cheerleader and president of the Celibacy Club. The silence left in her wake rang out in the still room like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Quinn muttered, breaking the tense silence. Michael and Jacob both laughed—it was so unlike the blonde girl to curse—but Rachel still looked incredibly anxious.

"Baby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? Should we go to the doctor?"

"No, it's okay…I'm okay Rach." Quinn gave her girlfriend a watery smile, as Rachel took her face in her hands and began to gently wipe away her tears. "Thanks for saving me. Again."

"I always will," Rachel swore, leaning in on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Quinn's lips, not caring for once that her dads were watching. "I love you, Quinn."

"I love you too," Quinn murmured, putting her hands over Rachel's and kissing her back enthusiastically. Jacob cleared his throat pointedly. "Oh, um, sorry," Quinn squeaked, tearing her lips away from Rachel's.

"It's all right, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it? We really didn't hear anything, though I think I can guess most of it."

"Maybe later…right now, I think I need to go lie down for a while."

"Of course, honey. Go rest. We'll go get some ice cream for sundaes tonight, how does that sound?"

"Awesome," Quinn grinned, feeling Rachel's fingers interlacing with hers.

"Want me to come tuck you in, baby?" Rachel asked innocently, with an inquisitive look that Quinn knew well.

"Please," the pregnant girl nodded, grinning devilishly. Hand in hand, they bounded up the stairs, neither one looking the slightest bit tired.


	12. Quinn's first

Hey kids!

Thanks for all the super-groovy feedback! FYI, this chapter might be pushing the "T" rating just a little…I doubt any of you will complain of course ;)

Enjoy!

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 12**

**By JewWitch**

…

"You sure you're still in the mood?" Rachel asked anxiously as soon as she and Quinn were alone in her room again. "I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you weren't…"

"Rachel. Up till the moment my sister tried to pull a Jesus intervention on me, all I was thinking about was how to blow her off without hurting her feelings…so I could come back up here and let you keep doing exactly what you were doing before." Quinn blushed a little, still shy of saying out loud exactly what she wanted her girlfriend to do to her. Rachel, who had always been quite verbal and perfectly comfortable with her expansive vocabulary, smirked wickedly at the blushing blonde.

"You mean, when I took off your bra and felt you up till you got all wet?" Quinn's blush went from pink to scarlet, and she nodded, biting her lower lip with a timid grin.

"So you want me to do that again?" Rachel drawled, crossing to where her girlfriend stood, pulling her in by the hips and slipping her hands up the back of the blonde girl's shirt, lightly raking her nails up Quinn's lower back. The pregnant girl sighed deeply, and nodded again.

"I wanna hear you say it," Rachel whispered stubbornly, kissing Quinn's throat and gently grazing her teeth across the sensitive skin of her pulse point. "Tell me what you want, baby…"

"Ohhh…Rachel…" Quinn moaned and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl, threading her fingers through long, silky dark hair.

"I'm right here," Rachel murmured against Quinn's throat, keeping her touch whisper-light, fingers teasing up and down the blonde girl's spine. Quinn whimpered and arched her back, trying to force more contact.

"Pleeeease," Quinn whined, trembling with pent-up desire. Her body was so sensitive these days, with the flood of hormones rushing through her system, that it barely took a lustful glance from Rachel to get her turned on and aching for the dark-haired girl's touch.

"Please what?" Rachel asked coyly, slipping one leg between Quinn's thighs and teasing her with a little bit of pressure. Quinn gasped, and made a raw, animal sound of pleasure in the back of her throat. She was rapidly losing control, something that Quinn Fabray as a rule did not do. But she couldn't help herself anymore…and she didn't want to. Nothing had _ever_ felt this good.

"Please, please…please touch me," Quinn whispered, raising her arms to let her girlfriend pull her shirt up over her head. Rachel happily complied, then made fast work of unhooking her bra, beaming at her beautiful girl with an expression of absolute adoration in her bottomless dark eyes. Quinn gulped nervously, letting Rachel push her backwards until the edge of the bed bumped up against her legs, where she lay back gratefully against the pillows.

"Should I touch you here?" Rachel asked, gently cupping one of Quinn's exquisite breasts in her hand. It was getting harder for the dark-haired girl to keep her desire in check and not just maul her gorgeous girlfriend, now that they were getting so close; but she knew that Quinn wasn't ready for that. She knew Quinn needed to go slow. And she knew she would do anything, anything for this amazing, bright-eyed angel lying flushed and quivering beneath her.

"Yes," Quinn groaned, fighting to keep her eyes open as Rachel began gently teasing and exploring her sensitive skin, avoiding the rosy little nipple for now. "Yes, yes, yessssss…oh God, Rachel, that feels better than anything…" Another animal whine of pleasure erupted from the back of Quinn's throat, boosting Rachel's confidence even further as she smiled her wide, beaming smile, and leaned down to capture Quinn's wet, open mouth in a deep kiss.

"Mmm…wait a sec," Rachel panted, pulling her lips away and leaning back abruptly.

"No…no wait," Quinn whined, tugging impatiently on Rachel's arm.

"What if I'm squishing the baby?"

"You're not. She's fine. Just keep going."

"Quinn! I could be cutting off her circulation…"

"Aghhh! Fine!" In one smooth motion, Quinn pulled her arms from around Rachel's hips, and pressed them firmly against the mattress beneath her, scooting back hard against the headboard with Rachel still on top of her- so she was suddenly half sitting up, with Rachel straddling her thigh, not lying on top of her baby bump.

"Whoa, you're pretty strong, huh?" Rachel beamed, and leaned in to reclaim her girlfriend's lips, her hand still cupped possessively to the blonde girl's chest. She ran her fingers teasingly along the underside of the soft swell of Quinn's breast, making her whimper and groan.

"You like that, angel face?" Rachel cooed, nuzzling her girlfriend's throat.

_"Yesssss,"_ Quinn groaned, her voice becoming decidedly louder as her inhibitions fell away, and she gave herself over completely to the feelings Rachel was pulling out of her. She arched her back against the pillows, trying to press her body into Rachel's with more friction.

"You want me to touch you like this?" Rachel murmured, pressing her hips against Quinn's thigh and pushing her leg between her girlfriend's, right up against her hot core. Rachel could feel how wet and warm she was through the thin barrier of fabric between them, and it made her heart pound along with the throbbing between her legs.

"Ohhhh_, yes!_ Just like that!" Quinn squealed, pressing her own leg up between Rachel's without conscious thought. It was so natural, so perfect, so delicious, there was no resisting the impulse. Not that Quinn wanted to. Rachel gasped in pleasure when Quinn's thigh pressed against her center, and kissed her hard. Then she moved her left hand up from where it was holding the soft weight of Quinn's breast, and began lightly playing with her nipple, rolling it between her fingers and tugging gently on it. Quinn completely lost her mind, raking her nails up Rachel's back with considerable force as she continued to grind against her girlfriend's surprisingly strong, lithe body. They were both gasping now, too far gone to talk to each other any more, and Quinn knew, she just knew, that this was as good as it got in the world. There was nothing better than this_. Nothing._

Just when the blonde girl thought she would die of pleasure, something broke inside her; she felt like she was falling off a cliff, or spinning upside down in a loop-the-loop rollercoaster. Her whole body seemed to spasm with release, as wave after wave of delicious shudders wracked her body. Slowly, her arched back relaxed, and she went limp against the pillows, with Rachel collapsing beside her, panting and out of breath.

"Ohhhhh…wow…" Quinn sighed lazily, trailing her fingers absently through Rachel's mussed hair with a huge, dopey smile plastered to her face. "You totally rock my world, Rach." The dark-haired girl giggled, raising her head from its resting place on Quinn's shoulder, beaming at her with the most satisfied Rachel Berry grin the blonde girl had ever seen.

"Glad it was good for you, too," the singer smirked, reaching one hand down to lazily rub Quinn's rounded stomach while they shared a sweet, soft kiss.

"It wasn't _good,"_ Quinn disagreed, pulling her lips away after a few long minutes of gentle, unhurried kissing.

"It wasn't?" Rachel asked anxiously, a crestfallen expression settling across her face. Quinn shook her head seriously.

"Nope. It was, like…earth-shatteringly amazing." Rachel's smile got so big, it threatened to swallow her whole face.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck, yeah," Quinn nodded enthusiastically. "I mean, you know that was the first time I, um…you know I never…" The blonde girl trailed off awkwardly, biting her lower lip in that adorable, shy way that Rachel found so utterly endearing.

"You mean you've never had an orgasm before? _Ever?"_ The dark-haired singer demanded, her jaw dropping in astonishment. "Not even by yourself?"

"Nope," Quinn shook her head bashfully. "That was my first."

"Holy shit, Quinn…" Rachel blinked dazedly, as shock and pride warred for top billing in her head. "No wonder you used to be so bitchy all the time. You were just horny and frustrated, huh?" Quinn laughed and slapped the smaller girl's shoulder playfully.

"I guess so. What was _your_ excuse?"

"I don't _need_ an excuse. I'm a star. We have to be high-maintenance, or no one will know how they're supposed to treat us once we're discovered and become famous." Rachel smirked, tossing her hair over one shoulder in a glamorous, affected pose. Quinn's giggles continued unchecked.

"But you know," Rachel continued slowly, the devilish glint coming back into her eyes, "I really should teach you how to take care of your own needs, sunshine…it will help keep you calm and happy when I'm not around, and it will also help us have a better time down the line if you know what you like, how you want to be touched." Rachel continued tracing the tips of her fingers over Quinn's stomach as she spoke, feeling a few feisty kicks from the baby. "I think Drizzle agrees with me."

"Her name is _not_ Drizzle, and she's not agreeing with you. She kicks when _you_ touch me…that means she wants you to keep your hands on me."

"All the time?" Rachel asked teasingly, laying her palm flat against Quinn's stomach and gently stroking her thumb around her girlfriend's bellybutton, which was starting to protrude slightly.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded, grinning playfully, and not looking too shy about it for once.

"Well if that's what the baby wants, I guess I have no choice…" Grinning hugely, Rachel leaned in and pressed another kiss to Quinn's lips, her hand still playing gently over the pregnant girl's stomach, where the baby was happily kicking away.


	13. Stormy Weather

Hey Kids,

Thanks for All the great reviews! Just a note, this chapter carries a mild angst warning; angst lite. Half the calories of regular teen angst! Enjoy ;)

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 13**

**By JewWitch**

…

"How much longer are you gonna pout? Seriously, I'll set my cell phone timer."

"I resent the presumption that I am pouting. I'm simply trying to get my Algebra homework done_. Again_. Now will you please be quiet so I can concentrate? We only have a few more minutes before class starts."

"Dammit, Rachel! I'm sorry I spilled orange juice on your homework. I've said it like fifteen times already. What else do you want? It's hard to judge how far away things are from my stomach, okay? I already feel like an elephant in a china shop, you don't need to rub my face in it."

"I'm not rubbing your face in anything, Quinn. I'm simply trying to repair my homework to avoid a failing grade. I really don't have time to soothe your ego right now." Rachel didn't need to look up from her soggy math notes to know that her girlfriend was glaring daggers at her, but for once, she didn't have the energy or the inclination to do anything about it.

"Whatever," Quinn muttered under her breath, crossing her arms and turning away from the dark-haired girl on the cafeteria bench.

"What the hell crawled up your ass and died, Juno?" Santana dropped onto the bench beside the pregnant girl with her lunch tray, while Brittney sat beside Rachel.

"Nothing, San. Thanks for your obvious concern for my wellbeing," Quinn snapped, poking moodily at the remains of her lunch, which had been doused with orange juice along with Rachel's math homework. She was contemplating whether or not it would be too humiliating to bring her ruined tray back to the lunch ladies and beg for a new sandwich.

"Hey, innocent bystander here, Q. Don't get all pissy at me just 'cause Berry didn't give you enough hickeys last night or whatever."

"Santana!" Quinn and Rachel both snapped at the same time.

"Jeez, PMS much?" Santana rolled her eyes, picking up her sandwich with a shrug.

"Quinn doesn't get PMS anymore, San. She's, like, eight months pregnant," Brittney piped up helpfully. Santana smiled at her impishly, in the way only Brittney could make her smile, and leaned across the table to give her not-so-secret girlfriend a quick kiss. Rachel huffed at the pair of them.

"Yes, Brittney, we've _all_ noticed that Quinn's pregnant, thanks," the dark-haired singer said sarcastically. Quinn glared incredulously at her girlfriend, then pushed her ruined lunch tray across the table and stood up in a trembling fury.

"Thanks, Rach, I really need as many reminders as possible about that right now, otherwise I might forget what a whale I am." The pregnant girl grabbed her backpack and stormed away.

"Quinn!" Rachel called after her, a mixture of apology and annoyance in her voice that was obviously not enough to make the blonde girl turn around. Brittney and Santana were both expecting the diminutive brunette to chase after her girlfriend, but instead she just sighed and dropped her forehead onto the table.

"Way to go, Berry. Classy."

"I didn't mean she was fat!" Rachel snapped, her ire turning back to Santana now that Quinn was gone. "I just meant she was moody. And she_ is! _So what if I do have PMS?"

"Dude, Q's eight months pregnant. That's like eight months of _non-stop_ PMS, plus a bowling ball strapped to your hips. You're lucky if you're getting any from her at _all_ anymore," Santana shrugged. Rachel groaned and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Rachel, are you okay?" Brittney asked, patting her arm.

"I've been better," Rachel sighed, finally opening her eyes again. "I know it's normal for pregnant women to be moody, especially near the end…but it's like I _always_ have to take it, and I'm _never _allowed to be moody back. And I just can't handle it all the time…especially right now. We have midterms and regionals coming, and I'm just so exhausted…" Rachel trailed off, absently rubbing her forehead.

"Yeah, you do look kind of craptastic, no offense. Is Q keeping you up all night with cravings and stuff?"

"No, not exactly…she actually sneaks out of bed and makes her own midnight snacks most of the time," Rachel admitted guiltily. "But the baby keeps kicking me. Quinn sleeps through it somehow, so it's just me and Driz playing the stop-kicking-and-go-to-sleep game. And she won't stop unless I sing to her. Last night she woke me up at 3:22am."

"If you don't want to be in the shithouse tonight, you better stop calling the baby Drizzle," Santana advised. "You know Q hates that."

"Wow, she kicks hard enough to wake you up?" Brittney asked, looking impressed. "I bet she'll be captain of the Cheerios one day, just like her mom." Rachel's weary, annoyed expression softened into a wistful grin.

"Yeah," she sighed. Then, wearily, she added—"Dammit."

Quinn avoided Rachel for the rest of the afternoon, managing to get to every class first and find a seat with no other free seats around it. She wouldn't make eye contact, and she wouldn't answer any of Rachel's texts. On a normal day, Rachel would probably have pushed harder, done whatever necessary to obtain Quinn's forgiveness and make her sunshine smile again; but right now, the dark-haired starlet was just too tired. Her exhaustion was making her cranky, too—why should _she_ be the one to fall all over herself apologizing for some tiny, perceived slight? Quinn was the one being unreasonable, and if she couldn't see that, she obviously didn't appreciate all the little things Rachel had been doing for her happiness lately. So, Rachel gave up trying to make up with Quinn after sixth period. Instead, she devoted her attention to the headache blossoming behind her eyes.

Quinn wasn't in Glee that afternoon, because she had a checkup with her obstetrician. Rachel had originally wanted to accompany her, but Quinn had assured her—insisted, really—that Puck could do his "Daddy duty" and take her for once; that it was too important for Rachel to be there for Glee with regionals less than a month away. So, Quinn wasn't there to hear Rachel make an absolute fool of herself when Mr. Schue informed her that she had, apparently, lost her voice. It was so humiliating. Rachel actually managed to be mad a Quinn in that moment, for not being there to protect her. How often had _she_ protected Quinn? And the one time when Rachel really needed her (to tell her to stop singing before she embarrassed herself), she wasn't there. She was off with Puck. Off laying on a cold exam table with her feet propped up in metal stirrups, but still.

"Finn," Rachel whined, valiantly holding back her tears of humiliation, "will you please drive me to the doctor? I don't want to worry my dads over this."

"Um…sure, Rachel," Finn shrugged awkwardly, unsure what the standard of etiquette was for chaperoning your ex-girlfriend who's dating your other ex-girlfriend. "But, I mean, wouldn't you rather have Quinn take you?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Rachel sighed, pouting dejectedly as she shuffled her feet toward the student parking lot. "But at the moment…I'm trying not to bother her."

"This may sound weird coming from me," Finn started hesitantly, scratching the back of his head in an offhanded, oafish way, "But…I kinda think she'd want to be bothered. She really loves you, Rach. Even when she's going batty with pregnancy hormones."

"Every time I open my mouth lately, I say something that pisses her off," Rachel sniffled, her voice beginning to wobble with the effort of not crying. "I know it's not her fault; but it still hurts…" Rachel started to cry, and Finn wrapped one of his huge arms around her shoulders, giving her an awkward squeeze.

"C'mon, it'll be okay. You'll feel better once you get your voice back."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded glumly, too terrified to admit her deepest fear: that her voice wasn't _coming_ back.

An hour and a half later, armed with a prescription for some heavy-duty antibiotics, Rachel was back at her own front door, on the verge of a complete meltdown. She'd managed to talk her way out of having surgery for now; but if these antibiotics didn't work, she knew she'd have no choice—the doctor had made it pretty clear that this wasn't an infection that could be ignored. She felt like her whole life was falling apart at the seams. And she was just so tired.

"Hi," she murmured listlessly when she saw Quinn curled up on the couch with her homework. Rachel leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her girlfriend to give her some sign that she was actually wanted.

"I saw you getting out of Finn's car," Quinn said coolly, not looking up from her English reading. "I guess it's a lot more fun to hang out with the football stud who drools all over you than sitting in the waiting room at the OB with your pregnant girlfriend."

"Quinn…" Rachel's voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands as she began to sob. These were not her glee club diva drama tears; these were actual, Rachel-at-the-end-of-her-rope tears of exhaustion and sadness.

"Oh, shit, what's wrong baby?" the blonde girl asked, her voice suddenly full of the tenderness and devotion than Rachel had been so desperately missing during these last few irritable weeks of Quinn's pregnancy. "I'm sorry, okay? I know I'm being obnoxious. I just can't help it lately…" Quinn hoisted herself off the couch, wrapping her arms around her sobbing girlfriend. Rachel collapsed against her, soaking up the warmth and safety of the blonde girl's touch like oxygen.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," Rachel sniffled wearily, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.

"Shh, c'mere," Quinn hummed, pulling Rachel back to the couch and handing her the tissues from the coffee table.

"Thadks," Rachel mumbled, pulling out a few and hastily blowing her nose. Quinn stroked her face, then frowned.

"Oh, damn, you've got a fever…poor little thing, no wonder you've been so cranky all day."

"I know. I…I lost my voice, Quinn. I made such a fool of myself in glee today…and the doctor wants me to have my tonsils out, but I can't do that because it could honestly destroy my voice forever, but if the antibiotics don't work then I'll have no choice, and I'll n-never be on Broadway, and…"

"Shhh, baby," Quinn murmured, pulling Rachel against her so their bodies melded together on the couch. The dark-haired starlet collapsed limply against her girlfriend, letting Quinn's cool hair graze soothingly against her hot face. "It's okay, it's okay…"

"You shouldn't be so close to me," Rachel sniffled, making no move to pull away from the intimate position. "What if I'm contagious? You don't need to get sick right now. And the baby…"

"Hush, don't worry about us," Quinn murmured, running her fingers lightly through Rachel's long, silky hair. "You don't have to be the strong one all the time, you know. You've been taking such good care of me the last few months…and I know I don't always make it easy."

"You _do_ make it easy," Rachel mumbled, her voice growing heavy under the influence of Quinn's gentle touch. "You're you…you're perfect. Dunno why you love me."

"I love you because you're you, and _you're_ perfect," Quinn replied simply, kissing the top of Rachel's head. "And I don't want anyone else taking care of you besides me. Finn can go piss up a flagpole." Rachel chuckled sleepily.

"I just asked him to take me 'cause I didn't wanna bother you…we were fighting…" Rachel's voice trailed off into a yawn.

"That doesn't matter, babycakes. Fighting doesn't count when you're sick. I mean, if we were fighting and suddenly I went into labor, you'd still drive me to the hospital, right?"

"You need a ride to the hospital?" Rachel mumbled, her voice so groggy it was barely intelligible.

"No, Rach, not right now. Just relax and rest your eyes, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel agreed absently, with a sleepy sigh. Quinn kept threading her fingers through her girlfriend's dark hair, and quietly began to sing "Try to Remember" from The Fantasticks. Within two minutes, Rachel was out cold, snoring softly with her face buried in Quinn's silky blonde tresses. A minute of her soft breathing on Quinn's neck, and the pregnant girl was out, too.


	14. Faithfully

Hey peeps,

Thanks as always for the awesome and encouraging feedback! Sorry it's been a while since I updated…summer in NYC is a very busy time! But you know I can't go too long without Faberry goodness, so no worries ;) Hope you enjoy!

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 14**

**By JewWitch**

…

Everyone was so relieved when Rachel got her voice back just three weeks before regionals, their collective energy level skyrocketed, and their rehearsals became almost electric. Then they almost got derailed again when Puck sang to Quinn in front of everyone, asked her to name the baby Beth, and to let him be there when she was born. Rachel, unsurprisingly, threw a fit and stormed out of rehearsal, leaving the rest of the glee club looking on awkwardly while Quinn chased her down the hall and out into the parking lot.

"Rach, c'mon, give me a break here," Quinn whined, holding her stomach with one arm. "I can't exactly run as fast as you right now!" Rachel stopped abruptly, crossed her arms, and turned back to face her pregnant girlfriend with a look that would incinerate mere mortals.

"You aren't going to be able to play that card much longer," the dark-haired girl said coldly. "And why are you chasing me, anyway? Puck's the one you want, apparently. I'd offer to give him my notes from Lamaze class, but he'll probably just make them into paper airplanes."

"You're beyond adorable when you're jealous, you know," Quinn smirked, cranking Rachel's furious glare up several notches. "But you're so far off, I can't even believe it. Are you sure you're not the one with the crazy pregnancy hormones right now?"

"Don't you dare patronize me, Quinn Cordelia Fabray. I'm perfectly within my rights to be angry when you choose the asshole who got you pregnant over me, your devoted girlfriend, as your birthing partner. Has Puck taken you to a single Lamaze class? Has he read even one pregnancy book? Do you think he's going to have the _slightest idea_ what do to when your water breaks? I honestly can't even fathom"—

"Rachel!" Quinn exclaimed, cutting off the furiously babbling brunette mid-sentence and grabbing her by the shoulders to get her attention. "I didn't choose Puck for anything." The dark red flush slowly drained from the shorter girl's face, replaced by a look of cautious confusion.

"Were we both in the same room just now? Because I'm pretty sure…"

"He asked if he could be there when his daughter is born. I said yes. He has that right, Rach…she's as much his as she is ours. Which is really not at all, because I'm giving her up, but…he has the right to be there. That's all, just be there. _You're_ the only one I want holding my hand. You're the one I need next to me…you're the one I picked, the one I'll always pick. Okay?" Rachel just started at Quinn with her wide brown eyes, still stuck on one thing: Quinn had called the baby _theirs._

"Oh, fuck…I'm an idiot," Rachel groaned, covering her face with her hands. Quinn pulled her close and gently tugged her hands away, kissing the miserable expression right off her girlfriend's face.

"Yeah, sometimes you are," Quinn agreed, smiling. "But sometimes I am, so it all works out, karma-wise." Rachel snorted.

"Oh, like you believe in karma."

"I do," Quinn shrugged. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"That's not very Christian, is it?"

"No, I guess not," Quinn agreed, taking Rachel's hand and tugging her back towards their unfinished glee rehearsal. "But then again, I'm not sure _I'm_ very Christian anymore, either. I dunno. Karma just makes more sense to me than heaven and hell…it means you always have a second chance, you can always make up for the things you've done wrong. You can still get somewhere good eventually." Rachel cocked her head, smiling at the blonde girl's wistful expression. "What?" Quinn asked, slightly defensively, when she saw Rachel staring at her.

"Nothing. I just love when you remind me how much possibility there is in the world." Quinn smiled shyly, and Rachel grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her down for a long, slow kiss. They had both forgotten about everything except each other when the sound of enthusiastic hooting and hollering made them realize they were standing right outside the choir room door, where the entire glee club could see them making out through the window.

Blushing, they broke apart, but kept their hands clasped as they made their hasty return to the room. Rachel left Quinn's side and approached Puck, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Puck had the good sense to look slightly afraid.

"All right, Noah, I have accepted that you will be in the room with us when the baby is born. But let me be perfectly clear—you will not get in my way, and you will not say or do anything to cause Quinn even the _slightest_ distress while she's in labor, or I will fill your car with poisonous snakes. Understand?"

"Geez, Rachel!" Puck took a step back, wide-eyed, like he thought she might have a few in her pocket ready to toss at him at that very moment if he displeased her.

"They'll lay their eggs in the glove compartment," she continued, eyes narrowed, as if he hadn't even spoken. "You'll never know where they are or if you got them all." The entire room, save Puck and Rachel, burst into hysterical laughter. Quinn ducked behind Mercedes' shoulder to hide her shit-eating grin.

"If you two are done vying for the alpha-dog title, can we please get back to rehearsal?" Kurt demanded, tapping his foot impatiently. "If this goes on much longer, we're going to have to do our vocal warm-ups all over again."

"Of course, let's rehearse. I'm sorry, everyone. Where were we?" Rachel asked, going back over to stand beside Quinn at the piano. Mr. Schuester handed out the sheet music for their Journey medley, and they all frowned in confusion for a moment.

"Mr. Schue, I think you mixed up the arrangement in _Faithfully,_" Finn said, scratching his head. "That's, like, an octave out of my range."

"Nope, it's right," Mr. Schuester said calmly, his expression all business the way it always was during rehearsal time. "Quinn's taking the second lead on _Faithfully_. I moved it up an octave to mezzo-soprano. You're doing _Don't Stop Believing_. And Artie gets _Any Way You Want It, _with Mercedes."

"That's crap!" Finn exclaimed indignantly, but everyone else was grinning at Quinn, who was staring at Mr. Schuester with her mouth half-open.

"Really?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Think you can handle it?" Mr. Schuester asked the shocked blonde girl, ignoring Finn for the moment.

"Of course she can handle it," Rachel cut in, beaming. As if she wasn't already excited enough about regionals, the idea of singing such a beautiful, romantic song with her girlfriend, in front of a thousand people, was making her insides come alive like a flock of hyperactive butterflies on Ritalin. Mr. Schuester was counting on this effect, in fact, to make their performance even more captivating—not that Rachel and Quinn's harmonies weren't mesmerizing enough on their own.

"But, Mr. Schue," Finn whined, only to be cut off by Mercedes.

"Get over yourself, white boy. You got a solo. Did you really expect to get them _all?_ You don't hear me whining like a little piggy pig, do you?" She jutted her hip and glared at him, and for once, Finn had the decency to look abashed instead of entitled. "That's what I thought," Mercedes harrumphed. Finn glowered, looking embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. Rachel and Quinn beamed at each other. Everyone else gathered around the piano so they could start learning the new songs, the drama already forgotten as their excitement for regionals took over.

"Did you guys know that dolphins are just gay sharks?" Brittney asked brightly.

…

"…Right down the line it's been you and me…oh girl, I'm forever yours…faithfully…" Rachel sang to herself while she set the table, not even noticing her dad and Quinn entering the kitchen with two large bags of Chinese takeout in their arms. Quinn added her harmony at the end, so they sang the word _faithfully_ together; Rachel turned around beaming, her smile almost too big for her face.

"In case I haven't said it enough, you're gonna knock their socks off tomorrow, girls," Jacob said, unpacking the takeout as Rachel and Quinn stood grinning at each other. "Rach, will you go tell Daddy that dinner's ready? Can't win regionals on an empty stomach."

"Dad! You're gonna jinx us!" Rachel squealed, but she did as she was told and went to get Michael from the den.

"I can't believe I'm actually hungry, I'm so nervous," Quinn admitted, sitting down as Rachel and her other dad came back into the kitchen. "And please, spare me any more pregnancy jokes, okay?"

"Too easy," Rachel shrugged, smiling sweetly as she sat down beside her girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek. Quinn turned her head and grabbed Rachel's face to keep her from pulling away, kissing her properly on the lips for a long moment before Michael cleared his throat, and the two girls broke apart reluctantly.

"Sorry. Hormones," Quinn shrugged, not looking particularly sorry at all.

"So in a couple more weeks, you'll stop wanting to kiss me?" Rachel demanded, putting on a very fake pout and batting her eyelashes dramatically.

"Ehh, probably," Quinn deadpanned, with an equally fake expression of disinterest.

"Oh, please, will the two of you stop being cute and eat your egg foo young?" Jacob snorted. It didn't take much to remind Quinn there was food on the table, and they all busied themselves with dinner, going over all their plans for the next day for the millionth time. At bedtime, Rachel curled up with her head on Quinn's stomach, explaining to the baby that tomorrow was a very, very big day for mommy, and to please be good and let her get a peaceful night's sleep. Apparently, little Fabray was already in her first rebellious stage, though, because when Rachel woke up at 3:37am to pee, she found the bed empty beside her. Stumbling downstairs in a groggy stupor, she found Quinn curled up on the couch in front of the TV with a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"Oh _God_, are you watching South of Nowhere _again?"_ the dark-haired girl groaned, crawling onto the couch beside her pregnant girlfriend and curling up with her head on Quinn's shoulder, yawning and blinking sleepily.

"No, I'm watching the _other _show that's based on our life," Quinn said sarcastically, but with no real sting in her voice.

"This show has absolutely no resemblance to our life, Quinn," Rachel muttered, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "You just like it cause of all the eye candy."

"Oh, okay, you're right. A naïve blonde cheerleader _from Ohio_ who grows up in a strict Christian home"—

"But the show doesn't take place in Ohio," Rachel reminded her stubbornly. "It takes place in LA. Which is way too glamorous to in any way reflect our life."

"Okay, fine, LA. But the blonde Christian cheerleader who falls in love with the beautiful, temperamental dark-haired diva with the amazing voice? Yeah, no, you're right, that has nothing to do with our life," Quinn snickered, offering Rachel a spoonful of her ice cream to keep her from pouting.

"Fine," Rachel sighed, opening her mouth for the ice cream. Quinn fed her and then kissed her, swirling her tongue around the cold, chocolatey treat in Rachel's mouth. "Mmmm…Quinn-flavored ice cream, yum," the dark-haired girl sighed, making her girlfriend giggle sleepily.

"Sorry I woke you, baby," Quinn yawned, scooping up the last of the ice cream and putting her bowl aside on the table. "I tried to be quiet when I got up…"

"You didn't wake me, don't worry. And anyway, it's not your fault…I believe I already had a conversation with this one about being on her best behavior tonight?" Rachel poked Quinn's rounded stomach, making the blonde girl giggle again. "Have you had enough ice cream in there now? Because your mamas need sleep if we're gonna make the entire Midwest regional show choir association swoon tomorrow." Hearing Rachel refer to the two of them as the baby's moms made Quinn's heart thump loudly in her chest, and she pulled Rachel back up for another long, deep kiss, waking them both up more than a little.

"Shall we go back upstairs?" Quinn asked coyly when she broke away, leaving Rachel with a glazed expression, eyes dark with lust.

"Hell yeah." Rachel scrambled to her feet, regionals effectively forgotten for the first time in days as she held out her hand for her girlfriend. They started towards the stairs, when suddenly Rachel stopped so abruptly that Quinn walked into her back.

"Wait a minute," the dark-haired girl said anxiously, turning to face the confused blonde. "You really think I'm as temperamental as Ashley Davies?" Quinn groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Do you want to get lucky tonight, or do you want to analyze our resemblance to fictional characters?"

"Right. Sorry. Option A, if it's still available?"

"Yes, dear, it's still available…but we'll have to be quick if we want to be rested for regionals tomorrow. That's not very romantic, is it?"

"It's _extremely_ romantic. If we're going to sing about being faithful to each other, we need lots of practice getting into the proper spirit of the song, Quinn. It's called method acting." Rachel smirked triumphantly, letting her fingers trail down between her girlfriend's thighs. Quinn groaned, feeling her cheeks flush and her skin come alive, like Rachel had just flipped a switch somewhere. It was very hard not to throw the gorgeous dark-haired girl down against the stairs and tear her pajamas off right there.

"Then get upstairs and show me your method," the blonde girl growled. Grinning delightedly, Rachel grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs.


	15. Regionals

Hi all,

I know it's been a while since you got an update! I'm sorry! Hope it was worth the wait :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 15**

**By JewWitch**

….

The alarm buzzed at 5am sharp the next morning, waking a very groggy Quinn and Rachel from their already interrupted night's sleep. Quinn slapped absently at the alarm until the annoying buzzing stopped, and rolled over with a groan. She was expecting Rachel to spring out of bed with her usual early-morning energy, inflated even more by the knowledge that today was the day the future of glee club would be determined. But instead, the dark-haired girl raised her head slowly, looking up at her girlfriend with a warm, sleepy, slightly confused expression in her deep brown eyes. Then, without warning, she started to cry.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Quinn murmured, snuggling up to the sniffling girl and nuzzling her hair, still mostly asleep. "You're not nervous about today, are you? …Gonna be so amazing, Rach…"

"No," Rachel whispered, pressing her face into Quinn's neck so the blonde girl could feel her hot tears. It was unnerving to hear a one-word response from Rachel, even when she'd just woken up.

"Did you have a bad dream?" the pregnant girl nudged, running her fingers absently through Rachel's long, silky hair.

"No." Quinn waited, but Rachel didn't elaborate.

"You gonna make me play 20 questions at 5am, babe?"

"It was…a good dream," Rachel sniffled softly, pulling back from Quinn's warm arms to wipe her eyes, which she kept averted, like she didn't want to make eye contact. "It was just sad to wake up."

"Aw, sweet girl…what did you dream?" Quinn tucked a lock of Rachel's hair back, lightly kissing her forehead. The dark-haired girl glanced up, then quickly looked back down again.

"I don't think I should tell you," she murmured. Quinn's heart began to pound anxiously, her early-morning stupor melting away and leaving her 100% awake.

"Were you…dreaming about Finn or something?" the pregnant girl asked meekly, steeling herself for Rachel's tearful confession of who she really wanted to be with.

"What? No!" Rachel squealed, finally looking up at Quinn with a horribly offended expression in her teary eyes. "Jesus, Quinn, after everything we've been through in the last few months, you still think I'd rather have him?" She looked more like herself now that she was kind of pissed off.

"Well, no, I don't go around thinking it in general," Quinn said defensively, more bewildered than ever. "But, I mean, when you wake up crying and won't tell me why…what else can I think?" Rachel blinked at Quinn's anxious expression, sighed, and looked down at her hands again.

"Okay…listen. I guess I need to tell you this…I've been thinking about it for a long time. And I know it's not up to me, and I _will_ still support you no matter what you decide, but…Quinn, I…I want to keep the baby. I mean, I want you to keep it. I mean, I want _us_ to keep it." After a full minute of silence passed, Rachel finally looked up. Quinn was staring at her with a blank, shell-shocked expression. "Quinn? Please say something." Rachel bit her lip anxiously.

"Fuck you." Quinn threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, stalking from Rachel's bedroom with cold fury lacing her every movement.

"Quinn…" Rachel began, following her out into the hall, only to stop short when the blonde girl wheeled around to face her with the most anguished expression Rachel had ever seen.

"What do you want me to say, Rach? Do you think I haven't already spent the last eight and a half months trying to imagine a way to make it work, that wouldn't ruin all our lives? Do you think you're doing me _any_ good right now by throwing more guilt on the fire? Do you think you could've picked a _worse_ time to bring this up? _Fuck!"_ Quinn was crying now, hot, angry tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, wiping furiously at her own tears that welled up again as soon as she saw Quinn's. "I d-didn't mean to upset you…I was j-just trying to be honest…"

"That's great, Rach, let's be honest. You want to be a mommy at sixteen? You think we can be a cute little family, both still graduate from high school, and have a real chance at doing _anything else_ with our lives? Well I _honestly_ can't take that chance, because in six months or eight months or a year from now, when you realize how much you've given up and what a huge mistake it was, you can just walk away. I can't." Rachel just stared at Quinn, feeling her heart break apart in her chest.

"I can't believe you actually think I'd do that to you," the dark-haired girl whispered, no longer bothering to wipe away the tears streaming down her face.

"I can't believe you're so sure it could never happen," Quinn replied acidly, a glint of the old, vindictive, queen-bee Quinn flashing in her hazel eyes. "Now will you please excuse me, I have to go get dressed so we can sing to the whole goddam world about how in love we are." With that, the blonde girl turned and stomped into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Rachel sat down right there in the hallway in her pajamas, put her face in her hands, and sobbed. After a minute, her dads' bedroom door opened, and she felt their warm hands on her shoulders.

"Honey, you need to pull yourself together," Jacob said quietly. "I know you just had a big fight, but I also know that today is a really, really important day for you, and you'll never forgive yourself if you give up and throw in the towel now. The show must go on, right?" Rachel sniffed, wiped her eyes, and looked up at her dads, seeing all their love for her and all their belief in her, right there for the taking. And she knew, suddenly, that Quinn was right—they probably weren't ready to be parents at sixteen, and it wouldn't be right to make that gamble with the life and future of an innocent baby. Not to mention, torpedoing their own dreams…Broadway, travel, building a real life together; one that had a fighting chance. Quinn wasn't saying no to her, not really—she was just saying she wasn't ready for it yet. And it still hurt, giving the baby up; but Rachel knew that it was hurting Quinn even more.

"Right," she sighed, standing up shakily. She went back to her room and got dressed in her shiny black and gold dress, giving Quinn space to recover from the fight though she wanted nothing more than to bang down the door to her girlfriend's room and beg her forgiveness. She was ready and waiting in the kitchen before the pregnant girl came down, jumping up from her seat the second she heard Quinn's light footsteps on the stairs.

"Hey," Quinn said quietly, her voice sounding sad and hollow as she came into view, looking, Rachel thought, completely stunning in her black and gold dress that matched Rachel's own, and made it almost impossible to tell she was even pregnant.

"I'm sorry," Rachel replied simply, standing perfectly still as if rooted to the spot. Quinn's eyes filled with tears again, and she looked up at the ceiling to try to keep them from falling, taking a few deep breaths.

"Rach, I don't think I have it in me to have this conversation right now…let's save it till after regionals, okay?"

"But…you still love me, right?" Rachel asked in a choked whisper. Quinn let out a breath and closed her eyes. A tear spilled over, streaking down her face. Then she blinked, and crossed the room to where the dark-haired girl stood, taking her face firmly in both hands and kissing her hard. Rachel made a small, soft noise in the back of her throat.

"I still love you," Quinn whispered rather fiercely when she pulled away. "Will you still sing with me?" Rachel blinked dazedly. A small smile crept across her face.

"Try and stop me."

They were mostly back to being nervous about regionals by the time they met up with the rest of the glee club in the McKinley parking lot to board the bus; Rachel's dads would join them later, along with the rest of the parents, when it was actually time to perform. The energy on the bus was electric; they sang almost every song they'd ever performed on the long ride to Columbus, from "Somebody to Love" to "Bust a Move," "Jump," "Bad Romance," and "Like a Prayer." The baby kicked a lot when Quinn sang, which the blonde girl figured was more due to her growing excitement and pounding heart than her voice- next to Rachel, she didn't feel particularly special in that department. But it didn't matter; they were all here together, ready to take the stage and give the performance they'd all worked so hard to reach. The fact that her own parents wouldn't be there to see it gave the pregnant girl only a small pang.

When the piled off the bus at the auditorium of Ohio State, they were singing "My Life Would Suck Without You," and Rachel was beaming at Quinn like the fight this morning had never happened. They all followed Mr. Schue toward the check-in table inside the lobby, except for Quinn, who had to pee _again_ and left the group to find the nearest bathroom asap. The University's facilities were large and labyrinthine, and the blonde girl wandered the halls with increasing urgency.

"Will you please stop kicking my bladder?" She murmured to the baby, one hand absently rubbing her stomach, as she looked up with a sigh of relief, seeing a sign for the women's bathroom. A second later, her relief belly-flopped into shock when the bathroom door opened, and her mother walked out.

They started at each other in stunned silence for a moment; then a tentative smile broke over the older Fabray's face. "Quinnie," she said anxiously, rushing up to her daughter and reaching out as if to hug her; then falling back uncertainly. "You're here. I was worried I might be too late."

"What are you _doing_ here?" Quinn gaped, unable to form a more coherent sentence.

"I came to hear you sing," Mrs. Fabray said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm so sorry I missed all the other times. Were there a lot?" Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no sound came out. "Honey, I'm so sorry I haven't been there for you. You were right about Daddy…and me…I _was_ afraid of him. But not anymore. I told him I wanted to bring you home, and when he refused, I kicked him out of the house. I'm leaving him—and I want you to come home, baby. We can make your sister's old room into a nursery…"

Quinn stood there, stunned, still not saying a word. "Quinn? Please say something, sweetheart."

"My water just broke," Quinn squeaked.

…..

"Hey, where have you"—Rachel's question died in her throat when she saw Quinn rushing into the green room, her mother's arm around her shoulders and a panic-stricken expression in her hazel eyes.

"Rach, I'm so sorry," Quinn whimpered, and before Rachel could ask her what she was sorry for, the blonde girl gasped in pain and doubled over, both hands holding her stomach. Rachel's dark brown eyes widened in realization, and she ran to Quinn's side, all other concerns instantly forgotten.

"Oh my God, now? How far apart are the contractions? We have to find the nearest hospital!" Rachel whipped her phone out of her pocket and google-searched the location of the nearest hospital to Ohio State University with a birthing center, while the rest of the glee club slowly cottoned on and gathered around them.

"Finn, can you sing my part? We can just drop it down an octave, it isn't too late to change the sheet music for Brad," Quinn panted, gripping her mother's hand tightly as the contraction ended and the pain slowly drained away—for now.

"Uhhh…" Finn mumbled awkwardly, glancing between Quinn, her mother, and Rachel, who was giving him a _don't even think about it_ look that was so furious, he actually took a step back.

"Quinn, don't be stupid, I'm not performing without you. We have to go to the hospital!"

"But Rach, you have to…if we don't place at regionals"—

"I don't give a _fuck_ about regionals!" Rachel yelled, making the rest of the club exchange incredulous looks while Quinn just raised her eyebrow at her girlfriend expectantly. "Okay, I do give a fuck, but not compared to this! You're in labor! No way am I going on stage now. The rest of the club can do what they want, but I'm coming with you, so don't try to stop me." Quinn smiled for a second, then another contraction hit, and she cried out in pain, leaning into her mother's arm to keep from falling.

"We're all with you, Q," Mercedes said, looking around at the group for validation. There was a chorus of "yeah" and "let's go!" from the others. Rachel noticed that Finn was still sulking in the corner, but frankly she didn't care what he did anymore. Puck was on Quinn's other side now, helping her toward the door while her mother ran ahead to pull the car around, and Mr. Schue ran to get the bus, promising Quinn that they'd all be right behind her.

"You guys don't have to do this," Quinn shook her head, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as the terror of what was about to happen set in. "I'm so sorry, I'm really so"—

"Give it up, Q, we're all coming, so just live with it," Santana said brusquely, leading an equally anxious-looking Brittney by the hand. They were all crowded around Quinn in a small mob now, so that the throng of people milling around them in the auditorium was forced to part quickly as they approached the exit. "We're a team. And, anyway, there's not much point in getting on stage without Berry. Hey, you think there's ever been a show choir performance for a baby being born before?" Quinn smiled weakly, her heart welling up with love for the friends surrounding her.

"All right, enough talk! Keep it moving, people," Rachel ordered, wrapping her arm more securely around Quinn's back and steering her forcibly toward the door. "The hospital is fifteen miles away and we're in an unfamiliar location. There are any number of unknown factors at work, and furthermore, the contractions are only four minutes apart." No one was stupid enough to argue with the fiery little brunette while she was ranting, and soon they were all racing toward the hospital at break-neck speeds. Quinn, Rachel and Puck went in Mrs. Fabray's car, Rachel in the back seat with Quinn, helping her remember her Lamaze breathing, while Puck sat in front next to Quinn's mother, trying not to look her in the eye because he couldn't think of anything to say other than "Sorry I knocked your daughter up," which didn't seem very helpful.

Quinn's face was gleaming with sweat by the time they arrived at the hospital, a noisy mass of bodies rushing into the emergency room entrance with the blonde girl hunched over in a wheelchair at the front, and Rachel and Mrs. Fabray terrifying every nurse within shouting distance into immediate submission. Within moments, Quinn was rushed off to a delivery room, along with her mom, Rachel and Puck. The rest of the glee club stood awkwardly around the waiting room for a minute, looking at each other with a _well what now_ expression passing among them. They noticed a few glances being thrown their way; not only had they made quite an entrance, but they were all still dressed in their black and gold regionals costumes.

"So, uh, it takes a pretty long time for a baby to be born, right?" Finn asked finally, scratching his head.

"Yes, tiger, it's going to be a bit of a wait," Kurt grinned faintly, winking at his quasi-step-brother.

"What should we do while we're waiting?" Tina asked, catching Mercedes' eye, who grinned cheekily at her.

"Well, we _are_ all ready to perform," Artie shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose with a purposeful glance around at them all.

"But we can't do the Journey medley without Rachel and Quinn," Mike piped up, surprising everyone—they usually never heard him speak unless he was singing.

"So? We're not at regionals now—we can sing whatever we want."

"What if we get in trouble? This is a hospital," Tina squeaked.

"Girl, please. These people _need_ some glee," Mercedes shrugged, smirking, and they all silently formed a semi-circle around her, Finn reluctantly joining last. They hummed together to find the right pitch, grinned at each other, and burst into song.

In the delivery room, Quinn was screaming. Sweat poured off her face, drenching the thin hospital gown, indistinguishable from the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Mom, it hurts," she sobbed, squeezing Rachel's fingers tightly as waves of pain stabbed at her body. "It hurts so bad!"

"I know sweetheart, you're doing great," her mother encouraged her, smoothing back Quinn's sweat-soaked hair from her face and raising an expectant eyebrow at Rachel, standing on the other side of the bed.

"Yes you are," Rachel agreed fervently, relieved that Quinn's mom wasn't trying to throw her out of the room, and perfectly willing to wait till later for whatever conversation was coming about where Quinn would live now that her mom was back in the picture. The dark-haired girl hated the idea of her girlfriend moving out, but she couldn't afford to think about that now.

"Just remember what we learned," Rachel cooed soothingly, mimicking the slow, timed breaths that they had practiced together in Lamaze class, until Quinn's ragged panting eased and eventually matched Rachel's breaths. Mrs. Fabray offered her daughter some ice chips; Puck just stood at the foot of the bed looking terrified and useless.

"All right, Quinn, everything's looking good here; you're progressing very quickly," the doctor said when he strode casually in, not even looking directly at the girl on the bed. His eyes were only on the electronic readouts and the chart by her bed. "Do you want anything for the pain?"

"Yes," Mrs. Fabray said immediately.

"No," Quinn growled, looking to Rachel for assurance. The dark-haired girl gulped, feeling a lot less sure about their no-drugs birth plan now than she had when they'd discussed it in the calm, pain-free environment of the birthing class. But Quinn's hazel eyes were determined. Rachel smiled bravely, and nodded.

"All right, if you're sure. But I have to advise you that the window of opportunity for an epidural is closing—once active labor begins, it will be too late."

"I don't want any drugs!" Quinn snarled, blinking sweat out of her eyes. Rachel took a clean cloth from the shelf and wiped off her girlfriend's flushed face. Puck continued to stand there slack-jawed.

"It's okay, angel face," Rachel crooned, holding Quinn's hand as another contraction hit, and her back arched, a convulsive scream ripping through her.

"Aghhh! I fucking hate you, Puck!" She shrieked, reminding the rest of them that the mohawked boy was actually still in the room. Rachel and Mrs. Fabray both threw him a very dirty look, and he took a step back, looking around like he wanted to hide somewhere.

"Mom, how much longer is this going to last?" Quinn sobbed, collapsing back against the pillows when the contraction ended.

"I don't know, Quinnie, but you're doing wonderfully. Isn't she, Rachel?" It was the first time that Mrs. Fabray had addressed the dark-haired girl directly, and it made Rachel's heart hammer in a completely different way than Quinn's anguished screaming had done.

"Of course she is," Rachel agreed, feeling like she might throw up at any second. Judy Fabray smiled and nodded over her daughter's head, and Rachel felt her heart unclench slightly. She was still wary of the woman pulling a Jesus intervention on them, like Quinn's sister had tried to do; but for now it seemed that they were on the same side.

"Oh, God, we forgot to call the agency!" Quinn gasped suddenly, looking to Rachel. "They need to tell Jack and Rob to come to Columbus—they're expecting us to be in Lima!"

"It's okay sunshine, I already called them," Rachel assured her, wiping the damp cloth across Quinn's forehead again. "They're on their way, okay? You don't need to worry about anything right now."

"Who are Jack and Rob?" Quinn's mom asked, looking perplexed. Rachel glanced nervously at her girlfriend, wondering if the peace between her and Judy Fabray was about to end horribly. She wished her dads were here, and not racing toward them on the highway, at least 3 hours away.

"The couple adopting the baby," Quinn panted, apparently in too much pain to be worried about pissing her mom off. Rachel watched the older Fabray's eyes go from perplexed, to shocked understanding. But, to her credit, she apparently decided that she wasn't going to argue about gay adoption with her daughter in this much pain, and simply nodded, tight-lipped, and squeezed her hand again.

Two hours and countless screams and sobs later, the doctor returned, and told Quinn it was time to push. The blonde girl was trembling from head to foot, but she nodded, taking Rachel's hand on one side and her mom's on the other, with Puck still standing like an awkward statue at the foot of the bed. He snuck a peek between Quinn's legs, and got a glimpse of the baby's head crowning, covering in blood and goo, and resolved right then and there that he was never having unprotected sex again.

"She's coming! Push, Quinn!" The doctor urged.

"Oh God, I can't," Quinn sobbed, squeezing Rachel's hand so hard the dark-haired girl felt a bolt of pain shoot all the way up her arm; but she didn't make a sound. "I changed my mind—I want the drugs, _please!"_

"It's too late for that now," the doctor said, patting her leg patronizingly with an expression that said _ditzy teenagers never listen_ as he consulted the beeping instruments around Quinn's bed. "You're almost done, Quinn, you can do it. Now push!"

"I _can't,_" Quinn sobbed, gasping for breath, her Lamaze breathing completely forgotten. "Rachel, please," she begged. The dark-haired diva felt her stomach turn over and tie in a triple-loop knot as she looked down into her girlfriend's anguished hazel eyes. She _knew_ they couldn't give Quinn the drugs now…threatening the doctor with the ACLU at this stage would be completely pointless. But Quinn was looking to _her_—not her own mother, not the doctor, but her—to make it okay, and Rachel felt the need to protect the angel lying on the table beneath her welling up in her like an ocean, heart pounding fiercely in her chest.

"You can do it, baby, I'm right here, I've got you. We're not gonna let anything bad happen to you, I swear—but I need you to push, angel. You can do it. _Push!"_

Quinn's screams filled the room, her back arching all the way off the bed as her entire body tensed with the effort of pushing her baby out into the world. Then, just like that, they were all staring at a squalling, blood-covered infant in the doctor's arms.

"Is she okay?" Quinn murmured weakly, too spent to even lift her head off the pillow to see her baby. In answer, the tiny body was placed in Quinn's arms, and she beamed at the small hazel eyes blinking back into her own. "Hi," she whispered, staring transfixed at her baby for a long, endless moment. No one else spoke. Rachel felt her heart breaking all over again. Then Quinn tore her eyes away from the baby's, looking up into the dark eyes fixed adoringly on her own.

"I love you," the blonde girl whispered brokenly, with an exhausted, watery smile.

"I love you too baby," Rachel sniffled, leaning down to cover Quinn's face with kisses, not even caring that a room full of people—including Quinn's mother—were watching. "You were so brave and amazing…" In the back of her mind, Rachel was aware of a wet dripping sound, like a leaky faucet, somewhere close by. She pulled back from Quinn's warm lips, and glanced at the floor below the bed, where a pool of dark red blood was collecting. Rachel's stomach turned to ice.

"Uh…doctor?" She squeaked, trying to stay calm for Quinn's sake as she pointed to the pool of blood. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"There was a bit of tearing, but you're going to be fine, Quinn. As soon as you pass the afterbirth, we'll have to stitch you up a bit, and you'll need a small blood transfusion, but I don't want you to worry. This is very common for a rapid delivery such as yours, and there doesn't seem to be any internal damage; you should heal just fine."

"Rapid?" Quinn squeaked incredulously. "We've been here over four hours!"

"I was in labor with you for sixteen hours, honey," Mrs. Fabray said, while the amused nurse took the baby from Quinn's arms to be swaddled and taken to the nursery. Quinn didn't say anything when the baby was taken out of her arms, but she closed her eyes, and everyone else fell uncomfortably silent.

"Mom…Puck…can you go tell everyone it's over?" she asked finally. When everyone was gone except for Rachel, Quinn looked up at her with a heartbroken expression. Rachel leaned over the bed and wrapped her arms gently around her girlfriend, holding her tightly without saying a word.

"Someday," Quinn whispered sadly when Rachel finally pulled back, beaming down at the weary blonde girl like she was the center of the universe. Rachel nodded, feeling a lump lodge in her throat. Someday, they'd be back here, on their own terms. When they were ready. They had all the time in the world.

"Someday," Rachel agreed, smoothing a sweat-soaked lock of blonde hair back from Quinn's pale face. Then she leaned down on her elbows, pressing their lips together in a kiss so full of tenderness and devotion, the rest of the world disappeared. "I love you," Rachel whispered against Quinn's lips, then climbed over the guard rail and curled up next to her exhausted girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling her hair. "I love you, I love you…" Quinn sighed and closed her eyes, totally spent. When the nurse came back to stitch Quinn up, she tried to make Rachel leave, but the dark-haired girl had already memorized a medical-rights oriented version of her ACLU speech and didn't budge. As soon as they'd finished patching her up, Quinn fell fast asleep in Rachel's arms; and after a few groggy minutes of rubbing Quinn's bellybutton, Rachel followed her exhausted girlfriend into oblivion.


	16. Coming Back to Life

Hey kids,

Sorry it's been a while since I updated! Quinn was pretty worn out after that last chap, and she needed a little break ;) Anyway, I really wanted to update this week, because in a few days I'm leaving for a two and a half week camping trip in California and Nevada! So the next update won't be for a while. Consider it a mid-season hiatus? (They seem to be a popular phenomenon these days…) Enjoy!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 16**

**By JewWitch**

….

"Is Quinn coming back to school soon?"

"I don't know, Brittney," Rachel sighed, not bothering to lift her eyes from her absentminded doodling on her notebook. She wasn't touching her lunch, spread out on the table in front of her.

"She won't answer your calls either, huh?" the blonde girl asked compassionately, patting Rachel's shoulder like she was a sad, brown-eyed puppy. Rachel just shook her head silently, the familiar sting of tears welling up in her eyes. In the week since Quinn left the hospital and moved back in with her mom, she hadn't answered a single one of Rachel's calls, emails, or texts.

"Oh, Rachel, don't cry," Brittney begged, wrapping an arm around the shorter girl's shoulders and squeezing her like an oversized stuffed animal. "She'll come back soon, I know she will. I mean, it's not like she's gonna drop out of high school or anything, right? She'll have to come back for finals, at least, and…" Rachel tuned out the cheerio's well-meaning babble, wiping the tears hastily from her cheeks and plastering a fake smile across her face that didn't reach her eyes.

"I have to go," she sighed abruptly, lurching up from her seat with her uneaten lunch still on the table, and trudging mechanically from the room. Brittney watched her go, pouting at the other girl's inattention. How was she supposed to cheer Rachel up when she wouldn't listen?

"What are you pouting about, little duck?" Santana asked, plopping down in Rachel's newly vacated seat and helping herself to the other girl's abandoned hummus wrap and fruit salad.

"Rachel. And Quinn. They're both so sad, and I don't know how to help."

"Aww, B, that's not your problem," Santana shrugged disinterestedly. "They've got each other to lean on, they don't need us."

"That's not true, San," Brittney shook her head dejectedly. "Quinn isn't returning anyone's phone calls, not even Rachel's. She's all holed up by herself at her mom's, and she must be sad and lonely; and Rachel's acting like a robot. They _do _need us. We should have, like, a sleepover party together or something." Santana snorted and rolled her eyes.

"That sounds like the most awkward double-date idea you've ever come up with, B. No offense." Brittney scowled and crossed her arms, turning away from Santana at the cafeteria table. Santana groaned, and hastily backpedaled. "What I mean is—um—Quinn's probably not ready for anything too heavy yet…she needs goofy fun group time, not serious couples' time. The sleepover is a good idea, but, um…" Santana winced internally, hating the suggestion she was about to make, but seeing no way around it. "We should invite _all _the girls from glee. Make it a glee club girls' night."

"San, that's such a great idea!" Brittney squealed happily, her pouting immediately forgotten as she clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. Santana smiled wryly, unable to keep up her tough girl sneer when Brittney was smiling at her like an overexcited puppy. "Girls' night! Wow, yeah. We can still invite Kurt, though, right?"

"Of course," Santana snorted, rolling her eyes until Brittney kissed the irritable expression right off her face.

….

The next day was Friday, and Quinn was curled up in a lump in the middle of her bed just like she had been all week, alternating between sleeping, watching old musicals on her laptop, and crying until her head throbbed. There were so many feelings gripping her sore, abused body, she couldn't even begin to sort them all out…and being suddenly ripped from the home she'd known for the last five months hadn't helped, either. She missed her girlfriend so much, it felt like a physical wound, like someone was stabbing her in the chest with a rusty, jagged knife. Yet she couldn't reach out to Rachel, either, no matter how much she wanted to…every time the phone rang, and she saw Rachel's name and number light up on the screen, her heart thudded with longing. But she was paralyzed with sadness, and the longer she went without answering, the guiltier she felt, and she just got stuck deeper and deeper in her pit of melancholy. She wanted Rachel to just show up and crawl into her bed, cuddle up to her and kiss her and tell her it was all okay.

Her mom tried to help; but they'd been alienated for so long, they were like strangers now, and the frigid politeness that had always held sway over the Fabray house had settled back into their lives as soon as Quinn walked back through the front door. Judy fed her and knocked on her door a few times every day to ask if she felt all right and if she wanted anything, but that was all. Quinn wanted to cry on her mom's shoulder, wanted to be hugged and held and reassured, but she just felt so isolated now, she didn't know how to ask. She was trapped in an icy island of loneliness, and she was too tired and sad to find her way out.

She was crying quietly and hugging her old stuffed donkey, Charlie, when her bedroom door sprang open and bounced off the opposite wall. Her mom _never _opened doors that forcefully, and Quinn looked up in surprise, jolted out of her tears. Kurt was standing in her doorway, wearing enormous, glittery pink sunglasses and a matching dark pink silk smoking jacket.

"Honey, it's time to come back to the world of the living," he announced, strutting in and throwing open the curtains, dazzling Quinn's eyes with sunlight for the first time all week. When the glare faded, Quinn realized that Kurt wasn't the only newcomer to her bedroom—Brittney, Santana, Tina, Mercedes and Rachel were all there too, smiling anxiously at her.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked croakily, wincing at the rough sound of her voice. When had that happened? When was the last time she'd even spoken aloud? She rubbed her eyes blearily and sat up in bed.

"It's an intervention, Q. We know you're going through some rough shit right now, but holing up in here like a bear in winter isn't gonna help you feel better." Santana plunked a bag of groceries down at the foot of Quinn's bed as she spoke, rooting around with an expression of deep concentration.

"We're having a glee girls' night!" Brittney squealed excitedly, bouncing on the bed beside her.

"Oh…you guys, I don't know about this…" Quinn sighed, looking to Rachel to gauge her reaction. She was still scared that her girlfriend would be mad at her for icing her out all week…and knowing Rachel, with her penchant for dramatics, she might be in for a serious screaming match right now. Not that she didn't think she deserved it, but she didn't want it to happen in front of everyone. More importantly, she still felt broken inside…and she wasn't sure she could fake smiles all night long.

"You don't have to do anything, Quinn," Rachel said quietly, twisting her fingers together nervously. She didn't jump on the bed like Brittney and Santana. "Just let us hang out with you tonight, okay? What's the worst that could happen?" Quinn sighed and closed her eyes. She wanted Rachel's arms around her so, so badly…but it didn't look like the dark-haired girl wanted to be close to her right now. Still, at least she was here; and she was asking to stay. They all were.

"'Kay," Quinn nodded, with a wobbly smile, as a few tears slid down her face. Brittney hugged her, but Quinn kept her eyes on Rachel, who was smiling tentatively back at her from across the room.

"Well, ladies, what shall we do first?" Kurt asked, seating himself neatly in Quinn's desk chair and crossing his legs as he began unpacking his overnight bag. "We've got makeovers, 80's movies, and magazine quizzes."

"Screw _that_, we've got booze," Santana announced, pulling a large bottle of vodka out of her bag and wiggling her eyebrows fiendishly.

"San, are you crazy?" Quinn gasped, leaping out of bed in shock. "My mom is, like, right down the hall!"

"Actually, she's not," Santana smirked. "She agreed with us that you needed some serious cheering up, and she also agreed to spend the night at your Aunt Bonnie's so we can get the job done right." The Latina girl winked at Quinn's flabbergasted expression, pulling out a half-dozen plastic cups and beginning to fill them. "We got you covered, mija."

"Okay, fine, but still…have you forgotten what happened the _last_ time I got drunk?" Quinn was getting agitated now, which only seemed to please Santana, who snorted with laughter. But it was Kurt who answered.

"I promise not to get you pregnant, Quinn," he joked, and they all cracked up laughing. Then, surprisingly, Tina took the first cup and gulped it down, grinning shyly.

"What?" she demanded when she noticed them all staring at her. "If I get drunk trying to cheer Quinn up, it doesn't count!"

The rest of them all took a cup then, still giggling, and Kurt put in his DVD of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and started rhapsodizing about Sarah Jessica Parker, while Mercedes opened her bag and began pulling out supplies for pedicures. Rachel announced loudly that she was going to the ladies' room, then glanced shyly at Quinn over her shoulder on the way out. Quinn felt her stomach jolt nervously, and waited approximately fifteen seconds before following Rachel out into the hallway.

"Rach, I"—but Quinn's awkward apology died in her throat when her girlfriend grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, kissing her like her lips were made of chocolate. They both whimpered, arms slipping quickly into familiar and unfamiliar places—they'd never really kissed like this before, pressed flat against each other, without Quinn's baby bump between them. Then Rachel pushed her leg between Quinn's, and the blonde girl hissed in pain. Rachel squealed and jumped back.

"Oh my God, I forgot about your stitches—oh, baby, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to"—

"It's okay," Quinn panted, grabbing the smaller girl around the hips and pulling her close again, leaning her forehead against Rachel's. "Please, please just keep your hands on me, Rach…please don't go anywhere…"

"I'm right here, angel," Rachel murmured, reaching up to thread her fingers through Quinn's blonde hair, gentling massaging her scalp. "Oh, Quinn, I missed you so much…"

"I missed you too," Quinn sobbed, lifting her head to cover Rachel's face with kisses. "I'm sorry I never answered my phone, I'm sorry I was so broken…"

"Shh, it's okay," Rachel murmured, her hands running aimlessly up Quinn's sides, like she was afraid the blonde girl would just disappear if she stopped touching her. "It's okay, it's okay to be sad…I just wanted to be here for you, and I didn't know how, and I was scared you didn't want me anymore…"

"I'll never not want you," Quinn whispered, pulling Rachel's face back to hers for another long, deep kiss, both of them feeling calm and whole and peaceful for the first time all week.

"Ahem." Rachel reluctantly pulled her lips back from Quinn's at the sound of someone's impatient throat-clearing, and both girls turned to see Kurt leaning in the doorway, one eyebrow raised at their slightly compromised position. "Miss Manners would hardly approve of the hostess ditching her party guests to make out with her girlfriend in the hall."

"And what would Miss Manners say about guests who invite themselves over and try to get the hostess drunk on illicit booze?" Quinn asked pointedly, failing to completely hide the smirk that was slowly appearing on her face as Rachel's hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, playing teasingly over her hip.

"I think she'd say they were doing an excellent job as long as they used coasters." Quinn and Rachel giggled as they followed Kurt back into the bedroom, where Tina was choosing a new nail polish color from Mercedes' collection, and Brittney and Santana were doing body shots on Quinn's bed.


	17. Not So New Beginnings

Hi guys,

Sorry for the long hiatus! I was out of town and then the Jewish holidays hit, and everything's just been crazy. But the gang's all back now, and Rachel and Quinn are _totally_ ready for new adventures. There are a few mild spoilers for _Audition_ here, but it's mostly AU, so nothing major. I should be able to get back to regular updates at this point, so buckle up and get ready for more Faberry fun!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 17**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Well well, check out the fabulous cheerleader who just walked into our kitchen," Rachel's dad drawled, abandoning the breakfast dishes to waltz over to Quinn and twirl her around. Quinn giggled, smiling at her two surrogate dads as they fussed over her. Her own mom had barely acknowledged her return to the Cheerios, or her first day of school, before she'd left the house. "Wait till Rachel sees you in this, blondie. She's gonna pop a gasket." Jacob winked, and Quinn blushed and looked at the floor.

"Stop it, babe, you're embarrassing the poor girl," Michael scolded his husband, snapping his butt with the dishtowel. "You do look lovely, Quinnie."

"Um, thanks…but, actually, Rachel's seen me in this outfit lots of times." _Back when I used to make a hobby of making her life miserable_, she added silently, feeling her insides squirm uncomfortably. "Is she, um, ready for school?"

"Her highness hasn't emerged from the royal bedroom yet. Go on up, sweetie—maybe you can hustle her along," Michael offered. Quinn nodded and padded up the stairs to the familiar room at the end of the hall.

…

"For the last time, Rach, your hair looks great. It's completely adorable, _and_ totally hot. What more do you want?" Quinn growled, crossing her arms over her red and white Cheerios top and tapping her foot impatiently. "We're gonna be late for school!" Rachel continued to frown at her reflection, fussing with her new bangs in the mirror.

"But…do I look hot enough to be the head cheerleader's girlfriend?" she asked anxiously. Quinn's eyebrows shot up disbelievingly.

"Oh…_that's_ what this is about?" Quinn's annoyed expression softened, and she crossed the room to where Rachel stood at her dresser, pulling the smaller girl into her arms and kissing her soundly. The little diva sighed dreamily. Then the blonde girl pulled away to press her mouth right up to Rachel's ear. "You've always been hot enough for that," she murmured, her voice low and husky, before nibbling lightly on her girlfriend's earlobe. Rachel's breath caught loudly in the back of her throat.

"You…you really think so?" She squeaked, drawing back with an anxious expression in her wide brown eyes. Quinn sighed in consternation.

"Remember how insecure I used to get when I was pregnant…and you'd tell me over and over that I was the most beautiful girl in the world, but I never really believed you?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded.

"Well, now I get how insanely frustrating that must have been for you," Quinn growled low in her throat, and Rachel giggled. "You don't need to do anything different, Rach. You're already so beautiful, it hurts." Quinn wound a lock of Rachel's dark hair around her finger, smiling a little shyly.

"Aww, Quinn…" Rachel beamed, pulling the taller girl down by the back of her neck for a long, enthusiastic kiss. Quinn's free hand slipped up Rachel's cropped sweater, playing teasingly around her bellybutton.

"Ahem." The two girls broke apart at the sound of Jacob clearing his throat, arms crossed in the doorway. "Good job hurrying her along there, blondie. This is very efficient." He grinned impishly at the pair of them. Quinn blushed furiously.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Rachel huffed at her dad, grabbing her girlfriend's hand and pulling her out the door.

….

"There's something else bothering you," Quinn said with a small frown, glancing between the road and Rachel's still-anxious face as she drove them to school. "It's me being back on the Cheerios, isn't it? You're worried I'll turn back into the old, mega-bitch head cheerleader." The blonde girl sighed heavily, the regret plain in her voice.

"No! Quinn, that isn't…I mean, I don't…" Rachel stuttered, unable to finish a sentence.

"It's okay, Rach, you don't have to lie to make me feel better. I _was_ awful, and we both know it. I'd do anything to take it all back now…but I can't." Quinn bit her lip, glancing across the seat again to gage Rachel's expression. The dark-haired girl was staring at her with her big, brown Bambi eyes, a look of doubt and uncertainty clouding her face. "But it's _not_ gonna be that way anymore, baby. Not ever again. Nobody messes with the head cheerleader, right? This is an upgrade for both of us."

"I don't know, Quinn…it sounds nice in theory, but I'm just not sure it's realistic. I mean, when we first got together, we were both outcasts. There was no threat to the whole high school food chain of coolness. Now that you're back on top…" Rachel bit her lip, and Quinn could see her fighting back tears. It made the blonde girl's heart clench in her chest. "I just can't stand the idea of people looking at us and wondering, 'what's _Quinn Fabray_ doing with that loser?'"

"You are _not_ a loser, Rachel," Quinn growled, cutting the engine as they pulled into the McKinley High parking lot and turning to face the smaller girl with a fierce look in her stormy hazel eyes. "You're gorgeous and talented and smart and funny, _and_ you're dating the head cheerleader. That makes you, like, the first lady of McKinley High." Quinn grinned impishly, finally drawing a small smile from the fretful girl in the passenger seat. "Seriously, all you need to worry about now is practicing your Jackie O. wave." Rachel finally laughed, and Quinn beamed, kissing her on the cheek.

"All right, all right, I believe you." Rachel let Quinn open her door for her and loop an arm around her, playing with a lock of her loose, silky hair over her shoulder as they walked toward the school together. They were so caught up in each other, they didn't notice Santana approaching until she'd knocked Quinn sideways into a row of lockers. Hard.

"Santana! Have you lost your mind?" Rachel shrieked, putting herself between the two Cheerios as Quinn got unsteadily to her feet. A small crowd had already gathered around them in the hall. This was _not_ the entrance Rachel had imagined.

"Out of the way, midget. This is between me and your _Queerio_." Santana spat the last word like a plague, causing Rachel and Quinn to glance at each other in confusion. That was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, wasn't it?

"Don't talk to my girlfriend like that," Quinn snarled, stepping in front of Rachel before the smaller girl could get caught in any more of the crossfire. "What the hell is up, San? Did you eat a pound of crack for breakfast or something?"

"_Don't_ play stupid, preggo." Santana shoved Quinn again, but this time the blonde girl was ready, and she didn't fall. "You know exactly what's up. _You're_ back on top, and _I'm _on the bottom. You told Coach Sylvester about my surgery, didn't you?" At her words, Quinn and Rachel's eyes—not to mention the rest of the watching crowd—went straight to the snarling girl's chest, taking in its new, excessively ample dimensions.

"You…you got a boob job?" Quinn asked, her expression clearly indicating that this was the first she was hearing about it.

"Yup, sure did," Santana snarled, and out of nowhere, she smacked Quinn hard across the face.

"Hey!" Rachel shrieked.

"You can't hit me!" Quinn growled indignantly, pushing Rachel back again as the tiny girl tried to intervene.

"Oh, sure I can," Santana laughed nastily, eyes flashing with cold fury. "Unless you got yourself knocked up again, _slut_. Though I wouldn't blame you for cheating on the Keebler elf here," she nodded maliciously at Rachel. Quinn's eyes narrowed furiously.

"Just because you're so insecure you had to go get yourself pumped full of silicone, doesn't mean the rest of us are gonna play along. Grow up, Santi, and leave me and Rachel the fuck alone till you do." Trembling with adrenalin, the blonde girl turned on her heel and grabbed Rachel's hand, pulling her away from the center of the gaping crowd. The little brunette caught Brittany's eye over Santana's shoulder before she turned, and the two shared one bewildered glance that clearly said, _are we still friends?_ Then Rachel's attention was back on Quinn, tilting her face and tenderly feeling the swelling on her cheekbone.

"Ouch! Stop it, Rachel, that hurts!" Quinn snapped, pulling away with angry tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby. C'mon, let's go to the nurse's office and get you an ice pack, okay?" Quinn nodded silently, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand. This was _not_ how she'd imagined her grand re-entrance as McKinley High's head cheerleader…and despite her anger with Santana, she was also crushed to lose her best friend. She'd had no idea that the other girl had been demoted down to the bottom to make room for her at the top.

"High school is so fucking stupid," she sniffed, letting Rachel push her down into a chair and press a cold pack to her face.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, sitting in Quinn's lap and gently wiping the tear streaks from her face with a tissue from the nurse's desk. "But you handled that encounter quite admirably, didn't you? I was very proud of you for not sinking to her level. And for defending me." Beaming, Rachel leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Quinn's lips, being careful not to jostle her ice pack. Immediately, she felt the blonde girl's tense muscles relax under her.

"Well, of course I defended you. If she'd laid a hand on you, Rach, I wouldn't have been able to just walk away like that. I would've gone completely apeshit." Quinn grinned sheepishly, and Rachel laughed delightedly.

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. You'll talk to her, won't you? I hate to think of you and Santana being enemies…you won't have any fun out on the field if you're always fighting." Rachel smoothed back a few mussed strands of blonde hair that had escaped Quinn's ponytail as she spoke.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded glumly, adjusting the ice pack slightly against her stinging cheek. Then she glanced up and noticed a pack of gawking football players standing the doorway to the nurse's office, staring at them like free porn.

"Get lost, pervs," she snapped, her free hand curling possessively around Rachel's hip.

"Aww, c'mon Quinn! We just wanna watch you guys play nurse. Don't you wanna kiss her and make it all better, Berry?" Karovsky wiggled his eyebrows piggishly, while the others wolf-whistled. Rachel blushed furiously, but before she had a chance to say anything, Finn and Puck appeared and pushed their gawking teammates back into the hall, shouting threats at the horny boys, who begrudgingly skulked off.

"See? We have our own bodyguards now," Quinn smiled weakly, as Rachel gently re-adjusted the ice pack for her. "How's it feel being first lady so far?" The little diva sighed, not looking her girlfriend in the eye.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…I think I liked it better when people just ignored us." Quinn's face fell. This was not the way either of them had imagined starting their first day of 11th grade.


	18. The View From the Top

Hey all,

Thanks for all the great feedback! Good to know you're still with me even after I kept you waiting for a month :)

Enjoy!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**By JewWitch**

**Chapter 18**

…

Their first glee rehearsal of the year should have been full of excitement and fresh energy, especially after Mr. Schue told them that nationals this year would be held in New York City. Instead, it was tense, fake-polite and awkward, at least for Rachel and Quinn, who sat as far as possible from Santana. It hadn't taken long for the gossip mill to circulate the story of the Cheerios' smackdown that morning, and most people's sympathies seemed to be with Quinn, who did her best to maintain her dignity with a dark purple bruise across the side of her face on the first day of school. Even Brittany seemed to be giving her girlfriend the cold shoulder, sitting between Tina and Mike on one side, and Mercedes and Kurt on the other, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact with Santana. The entire group seemed to sense a disturbance in the force, throwing off their usual easy group dynamic, and Mr. Schue didn't even bother trying to get Quinn and Santana to work together on their choreography the way they normally would.

"All right, ladies, this is getting ridiculous," Kurt huffed at last, tired of getting caught between the two Cheerios' hostile glares as they tried to learn Empire State of Mind. "Can we please talk about the giant elephant in the room? Santana, just apologize to Quinn for the dramatic display of early-morning violence, and Quinn, say you're sorry for Coach Sylvester punishing Santana to put you back on top. Then we can all play nice again." The fair-faced boy crossed his arms over his perfectly pressed shirt and tapped his foot impatiently.

"Shut it, Fruit Loop, and mind your own business," Santana snarled.

"Back off, Brown Barbie," Mercedes snapped, stepping in front of Kurt in case Santana was getting any more violent impulses. "It's _all_ our business, a'aight? We can't be a team if you're just sitting there waiting to stab us all in the back if we get in your way."

"It's not _everyone_," Santana protested, her face flushing bright red in anger and embarrassment as they all stared at her expectantly.

"Just your best friend?" Quinn asked coldly. Rachel reached out and squeezed her arm reassuringly. This seemed to incense the furious Latina, and she glanced automatically to Brittany for reassurance. Sure, the blonde girl had been giving her the silent treatment all day; but Santana was certain that when the chips were down, her girl would always have her back. But this time, Brittany crossed her arms and stared determinedly at the floor.

"Whatever," Santana spat; but they could all see the tears welling up in her eyes as she stormed out of rehearsal. As soon as she was gone, Brittany started to cry, too, and Rachel crossed the room to hug her.

"Well that was fun," Kurt said sarcastically, taking a grey silk Kenneth Cole handkerchief from his breast pocket and offering it to Brittany before sitting down and crossing his legs with a flourish. "I can't _wait_ for Cheerios practice now."

…..

The dinner dishes were just being cleared at the Berry house when the doorbell rang, and Michael went to answer it. From the look on his face, Santana knew instantly that he knew who she was and had seen the bruise on Quinn's cheek. She wasn't normally intimidated by adults—years of taking abuse from Sue Sylvester had hardened her against most forms of psychological warfare—but the chilly look from the tall, muscular black man made her stand up a little straighter on the welcome matt.

"Um, hi, Mr. Berry…is Quinn here? I tried her house, but there was no one home." Santana actually clasped her hands behind her back, an unusually submissive pose for the fiery Latina.

"That depends," Michael rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he appraised the girl in front of him. "Are you here to mess up her face some more? Or maybe you've thought about it and decided to go for the knees this time—that's a much more efficient way to get her spot as head cheerleader, you know." Santana blanched, clearly unprepared for not one, but _three_ insanely protective Berrys to get past before she could say what she needed to say to Quinn face-to-face.

"I'm sorry, okay dude? I just want to tell Quinn that. If you'll let me in, I mean." Santana shrugged, looking extremely uncomfortable. Michael blinked at her bemusedly, unused to being addressed as _dude_ by teenage girls. But he could also see the sincerity in her awkwardness—this girl was obviously not used to handing out apologies—so he stood aside and gestured for her to come in.

Quinn and Rachel both jumped up from their seats at the kitchen table when Santana walked in, homework instantly forgotten. Jacob looked up from the dishes to his husband, and through some silent married-people communication, just nodded and turned off the water, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

"Well, girls, I think we'll just be upstairs if you need us," he said diplomatically, following Michael out of the kitchen and up the stairs. After a moment of awkward silence, Quinn sat down again and folded her hands in her lap, staring at Santana expectantly. Rachel stayed standing, arms crossed like the world's smallest bodyguard.

"So, um…Brit won't put out until I apologize to you guys for this morning," Santana said finally, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"How touching," Rachel said sarcastically.

"Look, I'm sorry!" Santana snapped, finally looking up and making eye contact with the blonde girl sitting at the table. "I really thought you were the one who told Coach Sylvester about my boob job. I was just trying to defend myself!"

"I'd never stab you in the back like that, Santi," Quinn shook her head sorrowfully. "You're my best friend…at least, I thought you were."

"Quinn, I'm sorry." For the first time, Santana actually sounded like she meant it. "I just…I liked being on top. I worked so hard for it, and now to go all the way back to the bottom…"

"I know, San. _Believe_ me, I know. I swear I never wanted that to happen to either of us." Quinn stood tentatively, and put out a hand, squeezing her friend's shoulder sympathetically. Unexpectedly, Santana burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. Quinn and Rachel stared at each other in shocked silence for a moment; then Quinn threw her arms around her friend.

"Hey, c'mon tiger, it's okay. I forgive you, all right? Don't cry…"

"Quinn, don't tell her not to cry. I think it's much healthier for her to express her emotions in this manner than her usual bullying and intimidation. If she's finally allowing herself to open up and be vulnerable, it hardly helps for you to encourage her to bottle it all up again…"

"Fuck, Berry, will you just shut up?" Santana snapped, but with no real sting in her voice as she flopped down in a seat at the kitchen table, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Rachel, for once, fell silent, retrieving a box of tissues from the island and offering one to the flustered girl. "Thanks," Santana grumbled reluctantly.

"I'll talk to Coach Sylvester tomorrow, okay?" Quinn said fervently, sitting down on Santana's other side. "I'll tell her that punishing you just punishes all of us. I'll tell her how you spent all summer helping me get back into top condition, and how much better we both are when we're working together…"

"Thanks, mija, but that's only half the problem," Santana sighed, wiping her red eyes with a small, sad smile.

"What's the other half?" Quinn frowned. Santana just shook her head sadly.

"It's Brittany, isn't it?" Rachel said sagely. The Latina girl's head whipped up at that, staring at Rachel furiously for a second.

"Damn it, shrimp, is it possible that you're actually paying attention to anything other than yourself?"

"Ahem." Quinn raised an eyebrow, and immediately Santana deflated again.

"Okay, yes, it's Brit."

"But we made up," Quinn pointed out, looking confused. "She'll forgive you in about three seconds…"

"No, Q, this isn't about you, okay?" Santana squirmed uncomfortably. Talking about her feelings, let alone her relationship with the sweet and innocent blonde, was completely foreign to her, and she obviously had to push herself to get the words out of her mouth. "Ever since you two have been together, Brit's been pressuring me to make our relationship, y'know, official or whatever. I just kept telling her that it wouldn't work for us the way it did for you guys, because you were already at the bottom of the barrel—no offense. I told her we couldn't be cheerleaders and girlfriends at the same time, and the only way it could work was if we kept things on the down low." She sighed in frustration, and Rachel and Quinn exchanged a knowing look.

"So, um…I take it we're getting to the _real_ reason Brit's not talking to you?" Quinn asked gently. Santana shrugged glumly.

"She said if you could be head cheerleader and date Rachel at the same time, then why not us, too? I said no way, and, um…she didn't take it very well."

"Well can you blame her?" Rachel said coldly, her hackles rising in defense of the sweet blonde who she'd come to think of as a close friend—something she'd never had before Quinn came into her life. "She tells you she wants the whole world to know she loves you, and you tell _her_ you're ashamed of her. Can't imagine why she wouldn't want to put out after that."

"I'm not fucking ashamed of her!" Santana yelled, her cheeks flushing bright red. "I love her, okay? That's why I had to protect her! I don't want idiots like Azimio and Karofsky cat-calling her or hooting at her like the pigs they are. I can't be there to defend her every second."

"That's a very noble, but misplaced sentiment," Rachel said gently, the hostility mostly gone from her voice now. "Brittany may be a little more, um, innocent than most…but she's not a child, Santana. She's quite capable of choosing for herself what she wants, and she wants you. Don't belittle her by presuming that she doesn't understand what that means, or that she can't take care of herself without you. If you really love someone, you have to see them as your equal in every way." Rachel was beaming at Quinn when she finished, and Quinn smiled shyly back at her. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, guys, I just love being caught in the middle of your eye-sex," she muttered sarcastically. Ignoring her, Quinn bounced out of her seat and sat on the edge of Rachel's chair, kissing her lightly.

"You mean that?" Quinn murmured when she'd pulled her lips away from Rachel's.

"Of course, sunshine. I'm sorry I freaked out about you being back on the Cheerios…it was stupid, and it wasn't fair to you. I was just scared that once you were popular again, you wouldn't want me anymore."

"You're right. That _is_ stupid," Quinn nodded gravely, grabbing Rachel by the back of her neck and kissing her again. When about fifteen silent seconds had passed, Santana cleared her throat. Quinn and Rachel seemed to have forgotten that they weren't alone in the kitchen.

"Hey! Still here," Santana snapped, waving a hand in front of their faces.

"Sorry," the two girls chorused in unison, with matching blushes on their faces. Quinn pulled back slightly, looping one arm around Rachel's shoulders and playing with a lock of her hair. Rachel leaned back into her contentedly.

"Wanna stay for game night, San?" Quinn asked brightly. "After we finish our homework, we're playing Trivial Pursuit with Rachel's dads. You can be on me and Michael's team—we totally kick butt."

"Oh my _God_, Q, Berry is turning you into the dorkiest cheerleader in history," Santana groaned, but there was a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Thanks but no thanks—I think I'm gonna go talk to Brit. That is, if _she'll_ talk to _me_."

"She will," Rachel said confidently. "She loves you, dummy."

….

The next morning, Quinn and Rachel walked past Brittany and Santana making out in the parking lot. It didn't cause all that much of a stir, really—like with Quinn and Rachel, it hadn't been much of a secret that the two Cheerios were more than friends. The hooting and hollering of horny boys that Santana had feared didn't take long to erupt, of course; but they were all surprised when Brittany turned calmly to Azimio in the hallway and said, with a completely straight face, "My girlfriend will rip out your eyeballs if you look at me like that again. Bitch."

Rachel was still laughing at the mental image of Azimio's shocked expression when the bell rang for 6th period, signaling their first pep assembly of the year. She was glad to see Quinn and Santana side by side again, but after a minute, the little diva forgot about everything but her girlfriend. Though she wouldn't admit it to anyone, Rachel had spent plenty of time fantasizing about what it would be like to see Quinn cheer again, and not have to pretend she wasn't watching. Much to Rachel's delight, Quinn was just as interested in having Rachel's eyes on her as Rachel was in watching, and the two of them made puppydog eyes at each other all through the Cheerios' routine, barely noticing how much attention their eye contact was getting from the rest of the school. When Quinn stood at the top of the cheerleader pyramid for the grand finale, she pointed down at Rachel in the stands, and blew her a kiss. The entire school erupted into crazy cheers, and as soon as Quinn was on the ground again, she ran straight to the edge of the court, where Rachel was waiting to jump into her arms and kiss her.

Coach Sylvester made Quinn run laps for an extra hour after practice for the crime of "trying to start a lesbian sex riot," but the blonde girl hardly noticed her punishment. Her head was in the clouds, imagining what grand, public gesture Rachel was planning to out-romance her. She didn't even notice when it started to rain, and at the end of the hour, Sue Sylvester was furious to see the goofy smile still plastered to her head cheerleader's face.


	19. Teenage Dream

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 19**

**By JewWitch**

…

When Quinn got home that night, she found Rachel bustling around her kitchen, which was full of the warm, delicious smells of baking herbs. Even more surprising, her mom was there too, looking only slightly uncomfortable as she chatted with the tiny brunette over her martini.

"Are you…_cooking?_" The blonde girl asked, shock plain on her face as she dropped her workout bag on the floor and kicked off her soaked shoes.

"Just because I usually don't, doesn't mean I can't," Rachel shrugged, wrapping her arms around her soggy girlfriend and giving her a quick peck on the lips—neither of them was comfortable doing anything more in from of Mrs. Fabray. "You're all cold and wet, baby. I thought Cheerios practice moves into the gym when it's raining?"

"Yeah, but Coach Sylvester made me stay outside and do laps…it was, um, punishment for the pep rally." Quinn blushed, and Rachel grinned shyly, while Mrs. Fabray just looked confused and sipped her drink.

"What happened at the pep rally, Quinnie?"

"Oh, nothing, mom—I just, um, messed up the choreography a little. You know how psycho Ms. Sylvester is about us being perfect." Rachel bit her lip to stop the giggles that threatened to erupt. Then Quinn shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, and Rachel frowned.

"Okay, enough chit-chat. You get upstairs and get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold, missy. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes." Rachel smiled sweetly. Quinn scowled.

"Rachel, I'm not five. I can handle a little rain."

"Quinn, don't be rude," her mother chastised, sipping daintily at her martini. "Rachel cares about you, and she's just trying to be helpful. Now go get cleaned up so we can enjoy this lovely dinner she's making." The two girls stared at each other in shock—was Quinn's mom actually saying something nice about Rachel? Normally she avoided saying anything about Rachel at all. Too stunned to speak, Quinn just turned and ran upstairs to shower, wondering if her mom had just been replaced with a pod person. _Then again_, she thought to herself, _if she was a pod person she probably would've dropped the martini…_

Rachel's dinner was actually quite good—she'd made mushroom-herbed polenta, green beans with lemon zest, and couscous salad, and Mrs. Fabray complimented her even more than Quinn did, which Quinn actually found a little annoying. The blonde girl started snapping at both her mom and her girlfriend, causing them to exchange puzzled glances, which only made Quinn snap at them more. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so cranky; she knew Rachel was trying to do something nice for her to thank her for the romantic gesture at the pep rally, but for some reason, she was just getting more and more irritated. It didn't help that her throat hurt every time she tried to swallow, and her head was starting to pound.

Rachel had no idea what Quinn was so annoyed about either, and had just decided to stop talking all together when Mrs. Fabray blindsided her by asking if she'd like to spend the night. Stunned, Rachel turned automatically to Quinn to see what she wanted; but Quinn looked too shocked to react.

"Um…thank you, Mrs. Fabray, that would be lovely. I'll just have to call my dads." Quinn rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from the table, shoving her plate in the sink and stalking out of the room. Rachel glanced from her girlfriend's retreating form, back to the older Fabray who was sitting across for her, looking just as confused as she felt.

"Go see what's bothering her, sweetie. I'll get the dishes, all right?"

"Thank you," Rachel smiled weakly, and jumped up to follow Quinn to her room. She found her girlfriend curled up in a ball on her bed, scowling at her English reading. "Is my cooking really that awful?" Rachel joked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Quinn threw down her book and put her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry," she whined moodily. "I'm being such a bitch right now…your dinner was awesome, Rach. My mom is just making me fucking crazy."

"Yes, I surmised as much from your behavior downstairs. I'm just confused—she's really being nice right now, and you're acting like that's a _bad_ thing."

"It's not a bad thing," Quinn groused, picking at a scab on her hand. "It's just weird and confusing, and I don't get where it's coming from. And why is she suddenly inviting you to sleep over? She knows you're sleeping in _my_bed and not _hers_, right?"

"Quinn! What on earth is the matter with you?" Rachel demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

"I…fuck…I'm sorry, Rach," Quinn groaned miserably. Then she put her face in her hands and burst into tears.

"Hey, c'mere sunshine…" Rachel dropped back onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her sniffling girlfriend. "It's okay, shh baby…" Gently, she pulled Quinn's hands away, dropping light kisses all over her tearstained face. When she went for her lips, though, Quinn pulled away with a little whine.

"Don't kiss me…I just…uhh…" Blinking hazily, the blonde girl shivered, turned her head to the side, and sneezed into her hands. "Egscuse be," she sniffled wearily.

"Oh, so _that's_ why you're so cranky. You're just getting sick, huh baby?" Rachel leaned over Quinn to grab the tissues from her desk, offering them to her girlfriend, who still had her hands cupped over her face.

"Doe," Quinn whined, pouting and blowing her nose. Rachel just looked at her knowingly and raised one eyebrow. "Maybe," she grumbled eventually, closing her eyes with a drowsy sigh.

"Aww, my poor little angel," Rachel cooed, pulling Quinn down against her so they were cuddled snugly against the pillows. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me and stay out of the rain, hmm?"

"You're not mad?" Quinn asked meekly, yawning into Rachel's hair. "I was bitchy for no reason, and you were being so sweet and you made me dinner and my mom said you could sleep over, and now we can't even enjoy it…"

"Of course I'm not mad…fighting doesn't count when you're sick, remember?" Rachel poked Quinn between her ribs, making her giggle sleepily.

"Actually…when I said that, I only meant it for you," Quinn admitted sheepishly.

"Well I only mean it for you, so it works out, doesn't it?" Rachel reasoned, running her fingers lightly through her girlfriend's silky blond hair. "Besides, we don't have to fool around to enjoy spending the night together."

"But I _wanted_ to," Quinn grumbled petulantly, grabbing a fresh tissue and rubbing moodily at her nose. "Tonight was supposed to be…romantic…" Rachel reached out and rubbed her back as she half-stifled another sneeze.

"Bless you baby," the dark-haired girl murmured, tucking a few locks of hair back behind Quinn's ear while she blew her nose again.

"Ughh. This sucks. You should probably just go home, Rach…I don't want you to catch my cooties."

"Hmm, nope, sorry. I have to exercise my veto here."

"Your _what?_" Quinn raised her eyebrows, so astounded she forgot to pout for a moment.

"Don't look so surprised, you did the same thing when I was sick. And you were _pregnant_. If you can do it, so can I—I'm not leaving you when you're all sniffly and miserable."

"But Rach…"

"Nope, sorry, the veto is already in place. You're my girlfriend, and when you don't feel good, I have exclusive rights to taking care of you. Cooties be damned." Rachel's pronouncement was so final, and her expression so fierce, Quinn couldn't help laughing.

"Okay," the cheerleader sighed, yawning and curling up with her head on her girlfriend's shoulder. "But you can't get mad at me if you catch it." After a pause, she added, "And I get a raincheck for my booty call."

Quinn fell asleep listening to Rachel read aloud from Wuthering Heights, and in the morning, they both woke up a little cranky and congested. Rachel insisted they stop by her house on the way to school so she could pick up all her herbal supplements, which she badgered Quinn to take every three hours. The blonde girl whined and moaned every time, but grudgingly admitted by the end of the day that she _was_ actually feeling a lot better (aside from getting teased mercilessly by Santana for being whipped). And the next time it started to rain during Cheerios practice, Quinn wasn't surprised to see Rachel come running onto the field with her huge gold-star-covered umbrella, carrying a red thermal LL Bean raincoat.

"Admit it, Q—she could come out here with a neon pink argyle raincoat that said _Property of Rachel Berry_ across the chest, and you'd wear it," Santana snickered, while Quinn calmly pulled the insulated slicker over her head.

"Probably," Quinn smirked, giving Rachel a quick kiss under the umbrella before jogging back to the center of the field, where the rest of the squad was looking enviously at their warm and dry head cheerleader.

…..

The following week was the homecoming assembly, and they spent every Glee rehearsal arguing with Mr. Schue about the questionable merits of Christopher Cross versus Britney Spears. They practiced the Britney number behind his back anyway, knowing he'd give in at the last minute; but when Quinn showed up for the assembly in her black-and-white Britney costume, she was confused to see the rest of the glee club dressed in artfully ripped jeans and red tank tops.

"Did I miss a memo?" She asked Mercedes, who just grinned secretively at her. Behind her, the cheerleader could see the rest of the glee club shooting clandestine smiles at her, too.

"Nope. It's a surprise…you just sit down right here"—Mercedes pushed Quinn into a seat in the front row—"and enjoy the show, a'aight girl?" Mercedes walked away smirking, and Quinn, bewildered, took off her hat and suspenders so she wouldn't look so strange compared to the rest of the audience. After a few minutes of chatter, Principal Figgins called them all to order; then Rachel approached the microphone, beaming.

"I'd like to dedicate this performance to the sweetest, smartest, and most beautiful girl at McKinley High—my girlfriend, Quinn Fabray." The little diva winked right at the blonde cheerleader and blew her a kiss, causing an uproar of hooting and hollering from the stands as Quinn blushed furiously, unable to look away from Rachel's bottomless brown eyes. Then Puck started strumming his guitar, and Quinn recognized the song instantly. Her heart started to pound in her chest as Rachel opened her mouth and began to sing.

"You think I'm pretty  
Without any make-up on  
You think I'm funny  
When I tell the punch line wrong  
I know you get me  
So I'll let my walls come down, down…"

The rest of the glee club danced around Rachel, oohing and ahhing in the background, while their tiny star filled the auditorium with her huge voice, staring straight at Quinn. The blonde girl stared right back, blinking furiously so the tears welling up in her eyes wouldn't blur her vision. She didn't want to miss one second of this insane, incredibly romantic gesture.

"You make me  
Feel like  
I'm living a Teenage Dream  
The way you turn me on  
I can't sleep  
Let's run away  
And don't ever look back  
Don't ever look back

My heart stops  
When you look at me  
Just one touch  
Now baby I believe  
This is real  
So take a chance  
And don't ever look back  
Don't ever look back

We drove to Cali  
And got drunk on the beach  
Got a motel and  
Built a fort out of sheets  
I finally found you  
My missing puzzle piece  
I'm complete…"

As soon as Rachel finished singing, two things happened simultaneously—the entire auditorium burst into wild applause, and Quinn jumped out of her seat, threw her arms around Rachel's neck, and kissed her soundly in front of the entire school.

"Did you like your surprise, sunshine?" Rachel asked breathlessly, beaming while the rest of the glee club bowed to the cheering crowd.

"You are getting _so_ lucky tonight," Quinn growled.

"Score for team Faberry," Rachel squealed happily, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Quinn rolled her eyes, but didn't protest Rachel's use of the nickname the rest of the school had given them.

"I can't believe you got them to learn an entire new number behind Mr. Schue's back…when we were already learning _another _number behind his back! What did you do to entice them?"

"It was easy," Rachel shrugged modestly. "The girls are suckers for romance, and the boys just want to see us kiss." Quinn blushed furiously, but couldn't bite back the grin that took over her face as she dragged Rachel out of the auditorium.


	20. All The Way

Hey kiddies,

Thanks as always for the fabulous feedback! Just to warn you, this chapter is, obviously, rated M. It's basically nothing but smut. Romantic smut, but smut nonetheless. You probably already figured that out from the title, but I just want to be clear! Enjoy :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 20**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Hi." Quinn stood shyly on Rachel's doorstep, bearing a bouquet of ginger spice roses—ivory with red tips—tied with a red satin ribbon. She'd changed out of her Cheerios uniform into a simple, slate-gray dress, belted at the waist, the scooped neck showing off her pale collarbone and the golden blonde hair that cascaded around her shoulders.

"For me?" Rachel asked, beaming just as shyly back as she took the flowers, giving the blonde girl a quick kiss. "Thank you, Quinn, they're beautiful. Let me go put them in some water." Rachel grabbed her girlfriend's hand and dragged her into the house, swaying her hips a little to make sure Quinn was appreciating _her_ outfit—a sinfully short black skirt, and a softly draped, off-the-shoulder, rose-colored silk top. The effect was not wasted on Quinn, who felt like the temperature in the room had just gone up about fifteen degrees.

"You made me dinner _again?_" the blonde girl asked, pleased but confused when they got to the kitchen, and she saw the table elegantly laid for two, with candles and china and a half-carafe of white wine on ice. "I thought we were going out…and, um, where are your dads?"

"Visiting my Aunt Sandy in Muncie." Rachel said casually as she pulled a vase down from a cabinet, smirking when she caught Quinn staring at her ass.

"Muncie?" Quinn repeated, sounding slightly shell-shocked. "Like, Indiana?"

"Yes, Quinn, Muncie _is_ in Indiana. You're all ready for the big geography bee now, aren't you?" Rachel teased, delighting in the delicate pink blush creeping slowly up Quinn's throat.

"No, I just meant—are they coming back tonight?"

"Nope." Rachel shook her head, her dark brown eyes very serious as she smiled softly at her anxious girlfriend.

"Oh." Quinn gulped. "So this is…"

"My entirely un-subtle attempt to seduce you?" Rachel put the flowers on the table, walked over to Quinn, and wrapped both arms around her neck. "Why yes, as a matter of fact it is. Unless you'd rather just go to Breadsticks and get oogled by the football team as per usual…" Before Rachel could finish her speech, Quinn leaned in and kissed her deeply.

"Here's good," the blonde girl murmured huskily, her fingers slipping under the fabric of Rachel's skirt and raking down her lower back.

"Oh," Rachel nodded, suddenly rendered as inarticulate as Quinn had been moments before. "Good."

The truth was, they had both needed more time than they had expected to get to this point—where they both felt ready to go all the way, give up all control, and surrender their bodies and emotions completely to each other's care. And even though they both missed living together terribly, it turned out to give them the chance to do things they hadn't been able to do before—simple, normal teenage things, like surprising each other with flowers on the doorstep, real dates where Quinn came and picked Rachel up in her car, opening doors for her and dressing up for her, seeing the shyly spellbound look in her girlfriend's dark eyes as they traveled approvingly up and down her body. Quinn really, really liked surprising Rachel whenever she could—and, it turned out, she liked being surprised by Rachel just as much.

"So…" Quinn smiled her secret, wicked smile—"what's for dinner?" She pulled away from Rachel's flushed skin, sitting daintily in her chair and delighting in Rachel's slight stammering as she fixed two plates of spicy coconut curry and jasmine rice. They took their time over their food, relaxing as they sipped cautiously at their wine (Rachel assured Quinn that her dads had given their permission for this, as long as they promised not to drive after; like Quinn had any intention of leaving). After her first experience with liquor, Quinn erred on the side of caution—she knew Rachel wasn't going to get her pregnant of course, but she also wanted tonight to be special and memorable, which it _wouldn't_ be if she passed out at the table. But one glass of wine, she found, left her feeling warm and loose, calming her nerves, and helping her shift into the suave and confident role she'd been slowly easing back into ever since being reinstated as head cheerleader. She grazed one hand in teasing circles on Rachel's thigh while she ate, grinning mischievously as the dark-haired girl turned redder by the minute.

"Jesus, Quinn, are you trying to kill me?" Rachel finally groaned, looking up at her girlfriend's playful hazel eyes with an expression of pained intensity.

"Of course not, baby…I'm just trying to show you how much I appreciate all the trouble you went through to make tonight perfect. Don't you feel appreciated?" Her fingers continued to make light circles over Rachel's inner thigh, teasing the impossibly soft skin with the whisper-light contact.

"I feel…like I'm going to explode if you keep this up much longer," Rachel growled, squirming in her seat. Her shifting hips caused Quinn's fingers to slip up her thigh just a little bit higher, making the blonde girl gasp in the back of her throat when her fingers came into contact with the warm, slippery wetness that was beginning to pool between Rachel's legs. Knowing that _she_ had done that, it was _her_ touch that made Rachel's core turn hot and wet and desperate, drove Quinn nearly mad with desire. If not her for incredible willpower and her determination to make Rachel's first time absolutely magical, she would've ripped the smaller girl's clothes off right there.

Instead, she leaned in and pressed a soft, unhurried kiss to Rachel's warm lips, her free hand moving up to run through the dark, silky hair at the back of her girlfriend's neck. Rachel sighed into Quinn's mouth, but before she could deepen the kiss, the blonde girl pulled away again. "Quinn, _please,_" Rachel whined, squirming impatiently in her seat again. Quinn tucked a lock of dark hair back from Rachel's flushed face, and pressed her lips to the shorter girl's ear.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar—but never doubt I love." Then she stood and offered her hand to her trembling, dumbstruck girlfriend (she _knew_ a little Shakespeare would have this effect on Rachel), who eventually managed to reach out and take her hand, following her up the stairs on wobbling legs.

The second they got through the bedroom door, Rachel pushed Quinn up against the wall, kissing her hard and rubbing up against her like a cat. Quinn pushed back, holding Rachel tightly by the hips, and then, for the first time, reaching to unzip her girlfriend's skirt.

"Can I?" the blonde girl whispered huskily, fingers poised at the top of the zipper. She was certain she already knew the answer; but she needed to hear Rachel say it.

"Yes," the dark-haired girl nodded breathlessly, both hands buried in Quinn's hair. Smiling, the cheerleader pulled the zipper down and slipped the wispy skirt off her girlfriend's hips, letting it land in a small puddle on the floor, where Rachel kicked it away. Then the smaller girl raised her arms over her head, and Quinn gently tugged the delicate silk top off her, too. Rachel was left in nothing but a black lace demi-bra and matching panties, her olive skin glowing in the fading twilight.

"You are so…fucking…beautiful," Quinn whispered, her voice trembling with intensity as she ran her hands lightly up and down Rachel's body. Rachel whimpered, trembling at the knees, and Quinn wrapped one arm firming around her waist, kissing her and playing with her hair while pushing her back towards the bed, until it bumped up against the back of Rachel's knees. Instead of falling back onto the bed, the dark-haired girl reached out and undid the belt on Quinn's dress, searching impatiently for the zipper.

"It's right here," Quinn giggled, reaching up under her right arm. "I got it…"

"No, I want to," Rachel insisted, slapping Quinn's hand away.

"Yes_, ma'am_," the blonde girl smirked, a note of teasing but affectionate sarcasm in her voice as she submitted to Rachel's insistent fingers. Then Quinn's smile went slack when her girlfriend's fingers slipped up under her dress, sliding the cool fabric up and over her head.

"You vixen, you really _are_ trying to kill me," Rachel groaned, when she'd tossed Quinn's dress across the room and saw that her gorgeous girlfriend wasn't wearing a bra; the blonde girl was left in nothing but a pair of baby blue plaid hiphuggers. "Since when do you wear plaid underwear?"

"I thought you'd like them," Quinn shrugged, toying nervously with the hemline of the panties in question. This was as close to naked as she'd ever been in front of another person, and a lifetime of Christian guilt suddenly attacked her nerves. Rachel seemed to sense the wave of anxiety washing over her girlfriend's body like mist, and she pulled Quinn's hips firmly against her own, feeling her own pulse skyrocket at the amount of bare skin on skin contact they now shared.

"I do," Rachel whispered, kissing Quinn lightly as she leaned back against the bed, pulling the blonde girl down with her. Quinn didn't resist, climbing gracefully on top of Rachel as they crawled backwards towards the pillows, kissing hungrily.

"I want to feel all of you," Quinn whispered, her hazel eyes wide with the soft, vulnerable look of love that turned Rachel to butter every time. The dark-haired girl nodded, smiling shyly, and let her girlfriend unclasp her bra and slip it back off her shoulders. When they were both left in nothing but their panties, Quinn let her full body weight cover Rachel's, skin on skin everywhere as their breasts and stomachs and hips all pressed together, thighs slipping naturally into the warmest and wettest place they could find. Rachel moaned throatily into her girlfriend's mouth, pressing her thigh harder between Quinn's and holding onto her hips to increase the pressure.

"Underwear. Off. Now," the little diva snarled, her fingers tugging impatiently at the thin fabric around Quinn's hips. Quinn lifted her body slightly to help Rachel, both of them whining involuntarily when the delicious pressure between them disappeared. They were both impatient, and fumbled a little with the mechanics of trying to take off each other's underwear without changing positions at all.

"Rachel! Be careful! I bought these for you," Quinn squeaked when she heard the thin fabric tear.

"I'll buy you another pair," Rachel growled, unapologetically tossing the ripped panties across the room. Then she grabbed Quinn's hands and put them on her own hips, her dark eyes nearly black with lust. Trembling with desire, the blonde girl pulled the wispy bit of lace down her girlfriend's legs, letting it drop to the floor. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes with the same awed expression, hands running freely up and down each other's smooth skin, completely uninterrupted by any fabric barriers.

"I love you," Quinn whispered, rolling her hips back on top of Rachel's, but still leaning some of her weight on her elbow. She wasn't going to be rushed; she wanted this to last as long as possible.

"Oh, Quinn…" Rachel sighed longingly, pulling her girlfriend's exquisite body down on top of her own and leaning up to kiss her with all her strength. Quinn's tongue ran over Rachel's teeth, playfully requesting entrance; eagerly, the dark-haired girl opened her mouth, lightly sucking the tip of Quinn's tongue in and swirling her own tongue around it. That seemed to weaken the blonde girl's resolve to take her time; her hips ground roughly into Rachel's, one arm slipping between the mattress and Rachel's back to hold her tighter as their thighs became coated in each other's wetness.

"I need to touch you," Quinn gasped, trembling as Rachel nodded breathlessly. The blonde girl shifted her weight to one hip, just enough to slip a hand between their bodies. Her fingers slid easily into the thoroughly soaked curls between Rachel's legs, stroking once through the length of her warm slit, then swirling around her clit. Rachel's sharp cries of pleasure were like music to Quinn's ears, travelling straight through her to her own core, which throbbed every time Rachel moaned.

"Oh God Quinn, oh my fucking _God_…" Rachel thrust her hips up against Quinn's hand, desperate for more pressure. Their skin was shining with their shared sweat now, making their bodies rock together even more easily. Quinn, for her part, was quickly losing all her inhibitions as her animal brain took over, Rachel's body responding to her touch, speaking to her in a language she recognized deep in the center of her being.

"How should I touch you, baby?" Quinn murmured in Rachel's ear, two fingers lightly stroking her girlfriend's swollen clit in small circles.

"Inside," Rachel begged, opening her legs wider in invitation. Quinn shifted her weight again, straddling Rachel's thigh and letting her own weight press her down between Rachel's legs, swirling two fingers teasingly around the smaller girl's wet opening.

"Here?" Quinn asked teasingly, dipping just the tips of her fingers inside Rachel's warmth for a moment before withdrawing them.

"Yes!" Rachel shrieked, her fingers clawing Quinn's lower back as her hips thrust, pressing her thigh up more firmly against the blonde girl's aching wet core. Quinn gasped, thrusting back without conscious thought, and pressed her forehead down against Rachel's as she slowly eased two fingers into her girlfriend's warm, welcoming depths. They both groaned at the same time, as Rachel's back arched and Quinn captured her lips in a desperate, urgent kiss, their hips rocking together in a slowly building rhythm.

"Does that feel good, baby? Are you gonna come for me?" Quinn murmured, curling her fingers into Rachel as she began to pump slowly in and out, the heel of her palm pressing against Rachel's clit with every thrust.

"Oh fuck yeah, don't stop Quinn, that feels so good," Rachel sobbed, thrusting her hips in time with Quinn's fingers, grinding her thigh into Quinn's wet center with the same rhythm.

"Jesus Rach, you're so wet," Quinn groaned, ducking her head against the dark-haired girl's throat and latching onto her pulse point, needing the feel of Rachel's soft skin between her teeth as her body was flooded with more sensation than she'd ever experienced in her young life. Rachel shrieked with pleasure, no longer able to form words as her orgasm hit. Back arched, Rachel's body gripped Quinn's fingers, pulsing wildly as her thigh slammed into Quinn oversensitized clit. The blonde girl kept her fingers curled firmly inside Rachel, riding out her orgasm until her body went limp against the mattress.

"Ohhhhh Quinn…you're a fucking rock star," Rachel panted, smiling dreamily up into the stormy hazel eyes above her own.

"Yeah?" Quinn smiled, gently easing her fingers out of her girlfriend's body, and wiggling them slightly to get the feeling back. Rachel giggled.

"I thought it was pretty obvious from the way I was screaming in your ear."

"Well, yeah…but I still like to hear you say it," Quinn smiled shyly, back to her usual bashful manner now that the heat of the moment was over.

"You, Quinn Fabray, are a love goddess," Rachel sighed, digging her fingers into Quinn's sweat-dampened hair and pulling her down for a long, languid kiss. Rachel's thigh was still nestled firmly between Quinn's, and the slight increase in pressure made the blonde girl's hips thrust involuntarily against the delicious friction. Rachel pulled back from the kiss, grinning mischievously. "You didn't come, did you?" she asked coyly.

"Uh-uh," Quinn shook her head, blushing and biting her lower lip.

"Well that simply won't do," Rachel said seriously, pushing Quinn onto her back and rolling on top of her. Smiling, the dark-haired girl leaned down and began kissing Quinn's throat, one hand teasingly stroking the baby-soft skin of her girlfriend's inner thigh. Quinn whimpered, thrusting her hips up at the empty air.

"Rachelllll…don't tease," she whined, her hands gripping the shorter girl's back desperately.

"Who's teasing?" Rachel asked, raising her head to grin devilishly at Quinn's desperate expression of need. "I'm just making sure you're nice and warmed up for me. Wouldn't want to rush you, angel face." Without giving Quinn a chance to respond, Rachel leaned down and kissed her, rubbing their breasts and stomachs together as she brought her palm up, pressing it flat between Quinn's legs with a growl of approval as she felt the blonde girl's wetness against her fingers. Quinn groaned as Rachel's palm began to travel in slow, deliberate circles, smearing the wetness through her curls.

"You feel so good," Rachel whispered, her fingers exploring, circling Quinn's clit and darting down to trace the length of her slit. Quinn gasped, thrusting her hips up to meet Rachel's fingers with more pressure. "You're all wet, baby…" Gently, Rachel slipped two fingers into Quinn; but after a minute, the blonde girl grabbed her wrist and pulled her out again.

"No. Here," Quinn commanded, pressing Rachel's fingers back to her clit. They were wet and slick now from being inside her, and they slipped easily over and around the swollen little bud.

"You want me to play with you like this?" Rachel cooed, gently massaging Quinn's clit in light circles while her forearm pressed down on Quinn's public bone, trapping her against the mattress.

"Oh! _Yes_," Quinn panted, her back undulating against the bed, bucking her hips and Rachel with them. "Yes yes yes yes _yessss_…"

"You're so beautiful, Quinn…" Rachel sighed, dropping her head down to kiss and nibble the creamy flesh of the blonde girl's breasts while rubbing and stroking her clit. She could _feel_ Quinn's moans of encouragement vibrating through her skin as she took a perfect pink nipple between her teeth, sucking and tonguing it lightly.

"Oh God Rachel, I love you," Quinn moaned, writhing helplessly under her girlfriend's gifted fingers and mouth. Then the blonde girl's voice trailed off into incoherent cries of ecstasy, as Rachel bit down lightly on the nipple between her teeth, pressing her palm hard and flat against Quinn's hypersensitive clit at the same time. Quinn shrieked, her whole body arching up against Rachel's as she came throbbing against Rachel's hand.

They kept each other up all night, finally falling into an exhausted, blissful sleep around dawn. When they woke up, a little after noon, they were both slightly embarrassed to see the marks they'd left on each other—Rachel's throat was decorated with no less than four red and purple hickeys, and Quinn's back was covered in angry red claw marks.

"At least I can cover mine up," Quinn pointed out, pulling on the spare robe she kept in Rachel's bedroom. "You're gonna need a turtleneck or something. I'm really sorry I mauled you, baby…I didn't even know I was doing it."

"I'm not," Rachel shrugged, climbing back into Quinn's lap to give her another long, lazy kiss, ending with a soft bite to her lower lip. "Nothing that feels this good can be bad. I refuse to be embarrassed about making you feel so good that you turned into a wild animal." Quinn giggled, kissing her girlfriend back until her stomach started to growl insistently.

"Baby, as much as I want to keep kissing you forever…I think I'm going to pass out if we don't eat something soon."

"Agreed," Rachel sighed, climbing reluctantly off her girlfriend and searching for the nearest available clean clothes. "I might not even need to bother with my morning workouts anymore, if we keep this up. Do you want to go out or stay in?"

"If we go out, everybody's totally gonna know we did it…I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off you." Quinn bit her lip, and Rachel beamed back at her, straightening her jumper dress absentmindedly.

"Waffle House?" Rachel suggested, grinning innocently.

"Awesome," Quinn smiled shyly, grabbing her girlfriend's hand and pulling her out the door.


	21. Minor Adjustments

Hey kids,

Thanks (as always) for your reviews! Before we get to today's installment, I'd just like to take a moment to discuss the _awesomeness_ that was Lea and Dianna (and that other dude)'s photoshoot in GQ this month. I'm assuming y'all have seen it, 'cause it's been all over the internetz this week…apparently grown women dressing like naughty schoolgirls is controversial now? Personally, I thought they looked insanely hot—and it was the first time a magazine interview brought up the rumors about them being more than friends! Dianna actually said she knew these photos would feed into those rumors. She didn't even deny it! That was pretty awesome. The only way it could've been awesomer was if dumb quarterback boy wasn't in the pictures…but if you go to my profile and check out my new avatar, you'll see exactly what it would've looked like without him ;)

Enjoy this (slightly GQ-inspired) chapter! _Slight_ spoilers for the Britney/Brittany episode.

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 21**

**By JewWitch**

…

Quinn was flipping idly through a magazine in the waiting room when Carl the dentist man (she never did catch his last name) came and told her she could take her girlfriend home. Rachel was still passed out in the dentist's chair, and after several minutes of gentle nudges and light slapping, she finally opened her eyes- which were slightly cross-eyed and very bleary, making the little diva look stoned out of her mind- smiled up at Quinn, and asked woozily, "Is this real life?"

"Yeah, baby, this is real life," Quinn assured her, biting back the goofy grin threatening to overtake her face. It just seemed wrong, somehow, to take pleasure from Rachel's post-anesthesia loopiness...the poor thing was beyond out of it, so much so that Quinn wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to get her girlfriend home all by herself. But, damn, she was freaking adorable right now...

"Look Quinn, I have two fingers..." Rachel giggled drunkenly, holding up two fingers in front of her face.

"You're so hiiiiiigh," Quinn snickered, grabbing Rachel's hand and kissing it. "Do you think you can walk, babe? I gotta get you home now. C'mon, stand up..."

"Quinn Quinn Quinn," Rachel sighed, stumbling out of her chair and throwing both arms around the blonde girl, who was now basically holding her up. "You're soooooo pretty…" Giggling, Rachel pressed her face into Quinn's soft blonde hair. "And you always smell so good…even when you're all sweaty after cheerleading practice…"

"Rach, stop," Quinn said anxiously when she felt her girlfriend's soft lips on her throat. "You're looped on anesthesia and we need to get you home now, okay? C'mon, move it." The cheerleader tried to detach one of Rachel's arms from around her neck so they could walk; but the shorter girl held on tight.

"No," she whined against Quinn's throat. "Carry me."

"I can't carry you, Rach," Quinn groaned impatiently, feeling her face heating up the longer Rachel's breath fluttered against her pulse point. "You need to walk."

"Yes you can! You're strong. And I'm little." Rachel giggled, one hand playing with Quinn's hair while the other grazed over the back of her neck. Even whacked on laughing gas, the brunette noticed her girlfriend's pulse picking up, and she smiled dopily. "C'mon Quinnie, I wanna ride on your back!"

"You're wearing a miniskirt, Rachel."

"So?"

"So! The whole world will see your underwear!"

"So?"

"Arrgh! Move your ass to the car, Rachel Barbara Berry!" The little brunette whined in protest, but finally started walking when Quinn smacked her ass. Halfway across the parking lot, she stopped short, and Quinn, her arm firmly around Rachel's waist, nearly fell over.

"Rachel! Keep going."

"I'm all out of batteries, Quinn. You'll have to smack my ass again if you wanna charge me up." She giggled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, still swaying unsteadily on her feet.

"Jesus, Rachel…" Quinn sighed, caught between embarrassment and arousal, and hastily glanced around to make sure they were alone. Then she smirked, narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired girl, and gave her behind another firm smack. Rachel squealed in obvious pleasure.

"You _are_ strong," she sighed happily.

"And _you're_ a kinky little freak," Quinn said affectionately. "Now please, get in the damn car so we can go home…and maybe we'll find out how much you can take." Rachel nearly fell on her face in her eagerness to get to the car now.

Unfortunately for them both, Rachel fell asleep in the car on the way home, and Quinn had to get Michael to come out and carry her into the house. The blonde girl went home slightly frustrated, and even more uncertain. How much of that had been the effects of the anesthesia, and how much was authentically Rachel? Did her sweet, adorable girlfriend really want to be smacked around, or was she just being goofy from the drugs in her system? Quinn wasn't sure she'd be brave enough to bring the subject up herself, if Rachel didn't remember when she woke up…and Quinn wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ her to remember or not.

The next morning at school, Quinn stood chatting by her locker with Brittany and Santana when her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Rachel came strutting down the hall in the most sinfully sexy outfit Quinn had ever seen her wear—a tiny cropped button-down top, unbuttoned enough so her red bra was showing, and tied just below her breasts. Her stomach was bare, and below her bellybutton was a short, pleated black skirt and matching kneesocks with chunky high-heeled Mary Janes. Her long hair was pulled back in two braids tied with red ribbons.

"Holy shit," Quinn whispered, feeling all the blood in her body rush south so fast, she was left slightly lightheaded. She was also slightly embarrassed—this was school, after all, not a nightclub, and she didn't know if she could keep her brain out of the gutter with her girlfriend dressed this way all day. It was one thing knowing that people were looking at them because they were cute together; it was another thing entirely for people to stare at them like some kinky sex goddesses, the cheerleader and the Catholic schoolgirl.

"Rachel looks _hot_," Brittany said approvingly.

"Um…" Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out. Then the little brunette caught her eye, grinned widely, and sauntered over to where the cheerleaders were standing.

"Good morning, Quinn. Are feeling all right? You look a little flushed." Rachel blinked innocently, while the corner of her mouth pulled into a knowing, saucy smirk.

"I, I…uh…" Quinn gulped, jumping back and slamming against the lockers when Rachel reached out and touched her arm. "I'm fine," she squeaked.

"Are you sure, baby? You're all hot and bothered. Maybe we should get some fresh air before class…" Rachel grinned seductively, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling her towards the door.

"Rachel, stop it! We're at school! What on earth has gotten into you?"

"Hey, the girl finally got the stick out of her ass, Q. Let her have some fun, why don't you?" Santana snickered, earning a furious glare from the red-faced blonde.

"Stop looking at her like a piece of meat, San!" Quinn took off her Cheerios jacket and put it around Rachel's shoulders.

"Thanks, Quinn, but I'm really not cold," Rachel said smoothly, slipping the jacket off and pushing it back into her girlfriend's hands. "What's the matter? I know you like my outfit, I can tell from the look in your eyes. Don't be embarrassed—everybody loves us together, we don't have to hide it." Rachel leaned against Quinn's side and began playing with the end of her ponytail.

"I _am_ embarrassed, Rachel. Just because we're popular now doesn't mean we need to dress like porn stars!" Quinn took a step back, leaving Rachel slightly off-balance against the lockers; and finally the smaller girl blushed, too.

"Well excuse me for daring to have some fun," Rachel said huffily, eyes flashing as she straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Playing dress-up _is_ fun," Brittany agreed brightly. "Santana and I play dress-up sometimes before we do it. We've got all kinds of outfits."

"_Yeah_ we do," Santana agreed, neither of them looking the slightest bit embarrassed as they shared a playful kiss.

"But not at _school,_" Quinn hissed, banging her locker open and grabbing her books so hastily she dropped some of them on the floor. "I mean, how the hell am I supposed to concentrate when"—

"Ooh, _baby!_" Azimiel hooted appreciatively as he strode past, leering. "You gonna bring her to cheerleading practice today, Fabray? You don't even gotta cheer if you don't want to! We can watch you girls do other things, too." He wolf-whistled and slapped hands with Karovsky as they walked down the hall, laughing.

"In your dreams, asshole!" Quinn snarled, her arm curling protectively around Rachel's waist without conscious thought. Then the blonde turned to her girlfriend and demanded, "Do you want to spend your whole day fighting off dumb gorillas like those two? Cause that's all you're gonna get with that outfit."

"I don't think I'm in danger of being raped in the hallway, Quinn," Rachel said stiffly, pulling herself out of her girlfriend's grasp and crossing her arms over her chest. "News flash: I like attention. Why should I feel guilty about finally getting it?"

"Because _this_ isn't the kind of attention that's going to get you anywhere," Quinn snapped, hating the hurt look in Rachel's brown eyes, but unable to stop herself from saying it anyway. "They're not thinking about how talented you are when you look like that, Rachel. They're just thinking about fucking you." Rachel didn't say anything, but her dark eyes filled with angry tears, and her bottom lip began to quiver. "Baby…" Quinn murmured apologetically, but Rachel spun around and ran—actually ran—away from her. "Fuck," Quinn whispered, pressing her forehead against her locker.

"Nice going, Q. You just saved yourself the hassle of some nice lunchtime sex in the janitor's closet," Santana muttered sardonically.

"Shut up, San," Quinn snapped.

"Does that mean _we_ can use the janitor's closet?" Brittany asked brightly.

Rachel avoided Quinn for the rest of the day, and Quinn, hoping to avoid a scene, didn't push. But when she walked into glee rehearsal and saw Rachel sitting between Finn and Matt, both of them fawning all over her, her mind went blank with furious jealousy.

"Rachel, what the hell are you doing?" Quinn demanded, storming over with her hands on her hips.

"Well since you made it abundantly clear this morning that you don't appreciate my new look, I'm putting my energy where I _am_ appreciated," Rachel shrugged, feigning indifference.

"So if _I_ won't fawn all over you in public and make you feel like a porn star, you'll just throw yourself at the nearest warm body?" Quinn demanded, her face turning even redder than it had before.

"Hey!" Finn objected, looking slightly offended.

"Shut up, Finn!" The blonde girl snapped.

"Leave him alone, Quinn. He's not doing anything wrong, and neither am I!" Both girls were starting to notice the entire glee club watching them fight, but they couldn't bring themselves to care.

"Well if that's how you feel, then go ahead!" Quinn yelled, turning and storming from the choir room with tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Fine!" Rachel yelled at her retreating back, and though she didn't turn around, Quinn could hear the tears in her girlfriend's voice, too.


	22. Halleluja

Hey gleeksters!

Thanks for keeping up those super-awesome reviews; you get a cookie! (And by "cookie" I mean "update.") I usually don't respond to individual reviewers because people mostly say the same kinds of things, but this week there were a couple of questions, which I am happy to answer:

minako366—you are _not_ the only one who thought Rachel looked super hot in the Britney outfit.

nlgough—I read the interview in the actual print magazine—they didn't post it online! Presumably, because then there would be no reason for anyone to buy the magazine.

ohnice1—I think we were reading each other's stories at exactly the same time, haha! I'll keep this going, and you've got to keep Modern Love going too :)

…Keep R&R'ing, gleeks! Enjoy the chap!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 22**

**By JewWitch**

…

"I couldn't catch Quinn," Santana reported, panting slightly, when she returned to the choir room. "She took off like a bat out of hell. Any luck with Rachel?"

"She's crying in the bathroom," Brittany pouted. "Kurt and Mercedes are trying to get her to come out." Santana rolled her eyes.

"Santana, maybe you and Brittany could give it a try?" Mr. Schue asked, trying to look encouraging as he nodded toward the girls' bathroom. Santana raised one eyebrow incredulously; then, when she saw that Mr. Schue was actually serious, she just threw up her hands and sighed.

"Okay, whatever. But don't expect any miracles." Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and dragged her out of the choir room in a futile attempt to get their star vocalist to stop crying and come back to rehearsal.

At the Fabray house, Quinn's mother heard the sound of the front door slamming, followed by unselfconsciously loud sobs; then hurried footsteps pounding up the stairs, and another door slamming. The sound of her daughter's heartbroken sobbing was still audible through the door. Hesitantly, Judy Fabray abandoned her ironing and padded lightly down the hall, knocking nervously on the closed door.

"Quinnie? Are you all right?"

"Go away," Quinn's muffled voice croaked. Judy almost followed her daughter's command—it would've been a such relief to just walk away and ignore the display of emotion, the way their family always had—but then she firmed her resolve and knocked again, louder than before.

"Quinn Cordelia Fabray, I did not bring you home so we could spend our lives ignoring each other. I'm your mother and I love you, and you are _going_ to talk to me, dammit!" The sound of Quinn's crying slowed, then tapered off into ragged sniffles. A few silent moments went by; then the door opened, revealing a red-eyed Quinn wearing a stunned expression on her tear-streaked face.

"I think that's the first time I ever heard you swear, Mom." Quinn cracked a small, sad smile, and without pausing to think, Judy threw her arms around her daughter and hugged her awkwardly. She had to start somewhere.

…

"C'mon Berry, we all knew Quinn was a tight ass. She'll get over herself eventually, and you'll be back in your sugary-sweet little world of cupcakes, rainbows and unicorns before you know it. Now will you _please_ come back to rehearsal?" Santana tapped her foot impatiently, glaring at the closed bathroom stall.

"Quinn is _not_ uptight!" Rachel bawled from inside the locked stall. "She's_…*sniff!*…_ just old-fashioned."

"What, you mean like my grandma?" Brittany asked, frowning in confusion. "I dunno, Rachel. I don't think Quinn even knows how to knit." There was a pause in Rachel's crying; then with a weary sigh, the bathroom door swung open to reveal her tearstained face.

"No, Brittany," the little diva sighed, wiping her eyes. "Old-fashioned doesn't have to mean someone who's just like your grandma. Quinn was raised with very traditional values, and she's…she's just very modest, that's all. She doesn't wear revealing clothing…and I guess she doesn't want me to, either." Rachel sniffled again, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

"Like I said. Tight ass," Santana repeated, shrugging. Rachel glared at her with red eyes, and Kurt jumped in between them, anxious to avoid a smackdown in the girls' bathroom.

"All right ladies, let's all compose ourselves," he said smoothly, handing Rachel a moistened paper towel to wipe the tear streaks from her face. "What I'm sure Santana _meant_ to say is that Quinn is totally, insanely in love with you, Rachel. Once you've both had a chance to cool off, I have no doubt you'll work this out and forgive each other."

"Then comes the make-up sex," Brittany said brightly. Kurt and Mercedes frowned, but Rachel giggled despite herself.

"Yes, thank you Brittany," Kurt nodded smoothly before turning back to Rachel. "In the meantime, wash your face and take a few deep breaths, because we need you to come back to rehearsal, miss thang."

"Well, I…suppose this _is _good practice for Broadway," Rachel nodded, giving her friends a small, brave smile as she sniffled. "A star can't afford to be distracted by personal strife when a performance is on the line."

"That's right, girl. The show must go on!" Mercedes handed Rachel a tissue and smiled at her encouragingly. Rachel smiled weakly back.

…

"Please tell me what's hurting you, sweetheart. Is it…did you have a fight with Rachel?" Judy Fabray asked anxiously, the awkwardness she felt in asking this question plain on her face. Quinn looked at her mother guardedly, unsure whether or not it was safe to open up. She felt so raw and vulnerable; she wasn't sure she could take it if her mom started to get judgmental now.

"Are you _sure_ you want to talk about this, Mom?" The blonde girl asked quietly, curled up in a ball in the middle of her bed, cuddling her favorite old stuffed donkey.

"Of course I'm sure, Quinnie. Isn't this what normal parents do—talk with their kids about what's going on in their lives?" Judy smiled encouragingly, sitting lightly on the end of Quinn's bed.

"I don't know what normal is anymore, but…yeah, I guess so." Quinn sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Judy handed her the Kleenex from the bedside table. "Thadks," Quinn sniffed again, with a small, watery smile. Then she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, while her mother waited patiently.

"Yes, I had a fight with Rachel," she sighed finally. "She, um…she came to school today dressed kind of racy, and I, um…I guess it made me uncomfortable to have everybody looking at her like that, and I…I freaked a little." She glanced up at her mom to gage her reaction; but Judy's expression was open and intent upon her daughter. She was actually listening. "So then, I guess she wanted to make me jealous or something, and it seemed like she was just flirting with anyone who walked by…and then I _really_ freaked out."

"Well that's an understandable reaction, sweetheart. She shouldn't be degrading herself like that—it sounds like she's a very insecure person, if she needs to play on other people's feelings to make herself feel good."

"No, she's not," Quinn frowned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "She's just—I mean, she's _going_ to be on Broadway someday. She's a star, mom. She _is_. I always knew she liked attention, and I want to give it to her; I do. It's just—what if I'm not enough for her? What if I'll _never_ be enough for her?" Her red eyes filled with tears again.

"Sweetheart…" Judy reached out and squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "I know I haven't been a part of your life as much as I should have in the last year, but…I've seen you with Rachel. I've seen the way the two of you are when you're together, the way she looks at you when you're not looking. I…can't pretend to completely understand it, but…that girl loves you, Quinn. I don't care how big a star she becomes; I don't think she can ever replace you. Not even with a million screaming fans." Quinn laughed through her tears, sat up and curled herself into her mom's arms. Judy hugged her and patted her back. This time, it wasn't nearly so awkward.

…

Rachel managed to get through glee rehearsal without breaking down again; but the second Mr. Schue dismissed them, she went straight to her phone to text Quinn an apology. As it turned out, Quinn had beaten her to the punch. Rachel felt a rush of warmth in her stomach as she read the new message from her girlfriend_: I'm sorry. I love you. Can I come over tonight to talk?_ It was one of their shared quirks that neither of them could stand to use shortened "text speak" in their messages, citing, when asked, the erosion of the English language and the dire literacy statistics of the day. Rachel smiled hugely as she texted back, _Me too. Yes please. Stay the night? I'll be good, promise. I love love love love you._

"Didn't take her long, did it?" Kurt smirked as he passed, noting Rachel's beaming smile directed at her phone. "She's really quite chivalrous, our Miss Fabray."

"She's my angel," Rachel sighed, then glanced back down again when her phone buzzed with a new message: _Be there in an hour._ _Bringing my jammies. But you don't have to be TOO good ;)_

Rachel barely got through dinner with her dads, she was so anxious for her girlfriend's arrival. They hardly ever fought; but when they did, sparks tended to fly. It was like a punch in the gut, knowing that Quinn was upset with her; and even though they'd exchanged preliminary apologies by text, that really didn't resolve anything as far as Rachel was concerned. She wouldn't stop feeling nauseous until she could tell her girlfriend face to face how sorry she was, and see in those smoky hazel eyes that she was really forgiven.

Finally, the doorbell rang (Quinn still had her own key, at Michael and Jacob's insistence; but she still rang the bell out of politeness, keeping the key only in case of emergencies and for the sense of security it offered). Rachel's knees shook slightly as she went to answer it. Quinn looked just as anxious as Rachel felt, standing on the doorstep with her overnight bag on her shoulder.

"Hi," the blonde girl murmured awkwardly, with a small, anxious smile.

"Hi," Rachel squeaked back, actively resisting the urge to throw herself into Quinn's arms. She didn't want to seem desperate or needy, after all. Her stomach twisted unhappily, and she pressed a hand absently to her bellybutton. Quinn noticed this, and frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I might throw up, but I assume you won't hold it against me, considering how many times I held _your_ hair back last year."

"Rachel…" Quinn sighed, pulling her anxious girlfriend into the house and then into a tight hug, one hand slipping under Rachel's shirt against her stomach, and rubbing in light, soothing circles. "I'm sorry I made you feel so bad you're on the verge of yacking," the blonde girl murmured. Rachel sighed, her entire body going limp in the warmth of Quinn's embrace.

"I don't feel bad because of you," Rachel protested, her voice slightly muffled against Quinn's hair. "It was all my fault. I'm really, really sorry, Quinn. I feel so stupid for the way I acted today…"

"It _wasn't_ all your fault, baby. I was acting stupid, too. I don't want to control you, I swear"—

"You didn't"—both of them started to talk at the same time, then they stopped, giggling awkwardly, and pulled out of their embrace, keeping just their hands linked.

"Wanna come upstairs?" Rachel asked, feeling a lot less anxious (and less likely to vomit). Quinn nodded, smiling when Rachel picked up her bag and carried it upstairs, keeping their hands linked.

"So…" Quinn said, biting her lip as she sat, slightly stiffly, on the end of Rachel's bed.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said again, curling up beside her girlfriend and pulling a pillow into her lap, twisting the corners nervously. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I wasn't thinking about how my little foray into slutty MTV fashion would affect you, and I _should _have. I wasn't really thinking at all."

"No, Rach, I'm the one who was being stupid and judgmental. I'm sorry I made you feel guilty. I was just freaked out that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on school with you looking so insanely fucking hot all day…" _That_ brought an immediate smile to the dark-haired girl's anxious face, along with an adorable pink blush. "I guess I just felt embarrassed, like everyone would look at me and just _know_ what I was thinking…and then I was scared that you needed more attention than I'd ever be able to give you, and I…I wouldn't be enough for you." Quinn shook her head helplessly.

"Aww, baby"—Rachel threw her arms around Quinn, crawling into her lap and rubbing her nose into her girlfriend's silky blonde hair. "You are _more_ than enough for me. You're my everything. You're my sunshine. There's no one else in the _world_ I want to be with. You believe me, right?"

"I do," Quinn nodded, smiling shyly.

"I think I just got carried away because…because I've never felt sexy before. You're used to it, but it's new for me…and it's all because of you. Because when we…when we had sex…" They both blushed and smiled at each other. "It made me feel like this whole new person. Like a _better _person, a beautiful, desirable person, and I just got so excited, and I felt so proud that you loved me and you wanted me, I just…had to show off a little. It was either this or hiring a skywriter to write '_I did it with Quinn Fabray!'_ over the football field, and that would've eaten up my whole college fund." Quinn giggled delightedly, and Rachel beamed.

"You _are_ beautiful and desirable, Rach. You always have been…always." Quinn stroked Rachel's cheek, and Rachel leaned in and kissed her.

"I don't need to hear it from anyone but you," the little starlet breathed, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's neck.

"You should hear it from everyone, from the whole world. You're gonna be a star someday, baby…you're gonna light up Broadway, and they're _all _gonna want you."

"But only you get me," Rachel growled, claiming Quinn's lips in a fierce, powerful kiss. Their tongues swirled together, Rachel's hands threading into Quinn's hair, stroking the soft skin behind her ear. Quinn whimpered, gripping Rachel tightly by the hips and sucking on her bottom lip.

"Time for make-up sex?" Rachel asked eagerly when her lip was released from Quinn's teeth.

"Where are your dads?" Quinn asked breathlessly.

"Oh. Um…yeah. Down the hall. But it's not like they care." Quinn raised an eyebrow, and Rachel hastily backpedaled. "I'll put on some music, okay?" The dark-haired girl scrambled off the bed and grabbed her iPod, hastily scrolling through for something appropriately romantic; then she jammed it into the dock. A moment later, Rufus Wainwright was singing Hallelujah, and Quinn smiled softly, her eyes suddenly full of tears.

"This is such a beautiful song," she whispered, her voice half-breaking as she pulled Rachel back onto the bed.

"Hallelujah means _glory to God_ in Hebrew," Rachel murmured against Quinn's lips. "That's how I feel every time I touch you…" Then Quinn was crying, and Rachel was kissing her so gently and so deeply it felt like a prayer; they were worshipping each other's bodies. They both had tears in their eyes as they undressed each other.

_Baby I have been here before  
I know this room, I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you._

_And remember when I moved in you  
The holy dove was moving too  
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah…_

….

The next morning, Quinn had to wear her turtleneck Cheerios top under her uniform, and Rachel wore a thick gauzy scarf around her neck. They passed Brittany and Santana on their way to homeroom, so wrapped up in each other that they didn't even notice Santana's frat-boy smirk of approval at their obvious hickey-covering outfits.

"Isn't make-up sex the _best?_" Brittany sighed happily.

"Yup," Quinn agreed, squeezing Rachel a little closer as she threw her friend a sly wink. 


	23. Egg Drop Soup

Hey all,

Thanks for all the great feedback! Mild violence/drama warning for this chap, but nothing too hardcore—if it were a movie it would still be rated PG-13 ;)

**ohnice1**—you have to update now! I am seriously obsessed w/ Modern Love; it's the best Faberry story I've read in forever! I'm so pleased we've struck up this you-update-I-update deal :) I'd add here that everyone reading this should be reading Modern Love also; but I'm pretty sure that all y'all are _already_ reading it, judging by the number of reviews! Spread that Faberry love around :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 23**

**Bu JewWitch**

…

Quinn was on her way to glee rehearsal when Ms. Pillsbury stopped her in the hallway and asked her to come to her office to discuss an important matter.

"Am I in trouble?" Quinn asked warily, her mind automatically racing through the events of the last week for any sign of misconduct. Did sticking a "drop a rock on my head" sign on a football player's back in retaliation for his cat-calling her girlfriend qualify as trouble?

"No, no, not at all," the overly-cheerful guidance counselor assured her, patting her shoulder. "No, this is definitely good news, Quinn. Just come to my office and I'll show you what we've got on the table."

"Um…okay…" Quinn frowned suspiciously. "But I'm supposed to be in glee now…"

"This will only take a minute. Will—I mean, Mr. Schuester—won't mind at all." Quinn shrugged and followed Ms. Pillsbury down the hall, dashing off a quick text to her girlfriend so she wouldn't worry.

When Quinn arrived in the choir room ten minutes later, she had a blank, slightly shell-shocked look on her face. They were working on duets today, and Rachel was floating around coaching other groups (quite unsolicited, of course, but she felt rather magnanimous about sharing her expertise with her fellow glee clubbers so generously) while she waited for Quinn. When she saw the blonde girl walk in, she immediately frowned at the odd expression on the cheerleader's face. Abandoning Kurt and Sam (much to their relief), she crossed to where Quinn stood, looking bewildered next to the piano.

"Quinn, are you all right? What did Ms. Pillsbury need to talk to you about?" Wordlessly, Quinn held up a piece of paper; Rachel took it, her eyes scanning it quickly. Then she screamed.

"Shh!" Quinn hissed anxiously, glancing around at the rest of the club, all of whom were now staring at them. "You're not exactly helping me keep a low profile here, Rach."

"Quinn, this is amazing! Why on earth would you want to keep a low profile? I'm so proud of you!"

"What, did your girl win a lezzie cheerleader porno contest?" Puck jeered, grinning appreciatively to show this would be fine by him.

"I am _going_ to hurt you, dipshit," Quinn growled. But Rachel, for once, didn't even seem to have noticed Puck's lewd comment.

"Quinn is a National Merit Semi-Finalist!" The little brunette squealed, waving the letter triumphantly. The eyes of the entire glee club flew straight to Quinn, the astonishment plain on their faces, while the cheerleader just groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"That's great, Rach, thanks. Remind me not to tell you things anymore, will you?"

"Congratulations, Quinn, that's wonderful news," Mr. Schue said bracingly, before returning his attention to Mercedes and Santana's bickering.

"I didn't know you were smart, Quinn," Finn added helpfully.

"Well she _is_," Rachel beamed, still utterly oblivious to the fact that Quinn wasn't quite sharing her enthusiasm. "She scored in the 98th percentile on the PSATs, which is probably higher than anyone else in this school and maybe even in the district. Even if you don't get the scholarship, Quinn, it's quite a feather in your cap to come this far and it will look wonderful on your college applications. I wonder if"—Before Rachel could get another word out, Quinn grabbed her face and kissed her hard. "Wha…huh?" Rachel grinned goofily, while the boys (minus Kurt and, not for nothing, Sam) hooted appreciatively.

"I've learned that that's the only failsafe way to shut you up," Quinn shrugged, finally cracking a shy smile. "Now. Thank for your hi-octane enthusiasm, but can we please get back to rehearsal and talk about this later? I really don't want to make a big deal out of it."

"But Quinn"—Rachel pouted, looking like a kid who had just been denied a huge pile of candy.

"_Please_, Rach," Quinn murmured, low enough that only the dark-haired girl could hear her. Rachel huffed, then rolled her eyes in an _oh well_ sort of way, and shrugged.

"If that's what you want," she agreed grudgingly. The blonde girl smiled in relief and nodded, folding up the letter and cramming it away in her backpack. "Well," Rachel continued brightly, "I'm still extremely excited, so if we're not going to jump up and down and scream, then we may as well put our energies into rehearsing our duet. Did you bring your sheet music?"

When Quinn showed her mom the letter, she got more or less the same reaction as she'd gotten from her girlfriend; but now that she wasn't at school and trying to hold onto her street cred, she could let herself enjoy the praise. Judy squealed and hugged her for almost ten minutes, then immediately started calling every relative they had to share the news; but not before announcing that they _must_ go out to dinner to celebrate, and wouldn't Quinn like to invite Rachel and her dads along? Quinn was overjoyed at this; her mom and Rachel's dads had never spent any time together before, aside from a few awkward hours in the hospital when Beth was born. If being known as smart was undesirable at school, at least she was reaping _some_ reward from getting her cover blown. She ran off to call her girlfriend on her cell, arranging for them to all meet at Breadsticks at 7:30.

…..

When Rachel's phone rang at 7:15, they were already on their way to the restaurant; she thought perhaps Quinn was calling to say they were running a few minutes late and to hold the table. She was _not_ expecting to hear her girlfriend crying desperately on the other end of the phone.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, glancing anxiously at her dads in the front seat as they threw her a confused look.

"Rach, we c-can't—I—I'm sorry," the blonde girl stuttered through her tears. Rachel couldn't understand what was happening, until she heard shouting in the background—a man's voice, not a woman's—and the sound of shattering glass. Her blood ran cold.

"Quinn. Is your father there?" Rachel demanded anxiously.

"He's drunk. He d-doesn't know what he's d-doing," Quinn sobbed, her voice almost hysterical. "Rach, I'm scared…I d-don't know what to do…"

Ten minutes later, Rachel and her dads were at the Fabrays' front door. Michael and Jacob tried to get Rachel to stay in the car, but to no one's surprise, the tiny diva had flatly refused. They rang the doorbell for several minutes, hearing shouting and crashing from inside before it was opened, and Quinn flew into Rachel's arms, sobbing and nursing a bloody nose. Rachel tried to take her to the car, but the blonde girl wouldn't leave.

"No, my mom's still with him," she shook her head, displaying her own indomitable stubborn streak. "We can't leave her."

"It's all right, sweetheart," Michael said quietly, squeezing Quinn's shoulder. His deep voice instantly offered security and reassurance, and reluctantly, they all crept back into the house. Rachel pulled Quinn over to the couch, grabbing the Kleenex from the coffee table and tilting the cheerleader's head back to stop her nosebleed. They were both aware of Rachel's dads walking toward the source of the shouting in the kitchen.

"I shouldn't have let her call him," Quinn choked, her breathing ragged as she held the bloody Kleenex pressed to her nose. "She s-said he's still my dad and he'd be proud…she said he should know…he'd be happy for me…"

"Shh, it's not your fault Quinn," Rachel murmured, her heart hammering in her chest as she pulled her girlfriend's shaking body closer. "Tilt your head back baby, we need to stop this bleeding…there, that's good…you're okay, it's all going to be okay…" The dark-haired girl continued to babble, too terrified for anything else. Quinn's breathing eased slightly; then another loud crash made them both jump up and run to the kitchen.

Russell Fabray was face-down on the floor, groaning drunkenly, with Michael's foot on the back of his neck. Judy stood white-faced in the corner, a welt already rising across her cheekbone, with Jacob beside her, his hand on her arm. Quinn whimpered, and when Judy looked up and saw her daughter's face, bone-white and smeared with blood, her eyes hardened, and she stood up a little straighter.

"Listen very closely, Russell. Pride may have stopped me from involving the police before, but if you don't leave this house right now, I will take whatever humiliation comes along with the neighbors knowing my ex-husband is a good-for-nothing drunk, _believe_ me. You will _never_ come back here, and you will never, _ever_ lay a hand on my daughter again, or I swear to the Lord himself I will make sure you spend the rest of your natural-born life rotting in prison. It should help you prepare to rot in hell, you son of a bitch." For a minute, no one spoke. Rachel could feel Quinn's hand gripping hers, almost as tightly as she had when she was in labor.

"I'm gonna let you up now," Michael said evenly, the only one in the room who looked remotely calm. "And you're gonna walk on out of here, right?"

"Fuck you, you fucking faggot," Russell snarled, his lips mashed against the linoleum so his voice came out muffled and slurred. "You brainwashed my daughter with your godless liberal queer agenda! Get your faggy foot off me!"

"You're not helping yourself right now, man. Are you gonna walk out of here, or are we calling the police? It's up to you what happens next, understand?"

"Let me up, God dammit! I'll leave, all right?"

"Okay," Michael said smoothly, stepping back and taking his weight off Russell's neck. The drunk man scrambled to his feet, and immediately lunged at Michael with a roar of fury. But his drunkenness made him sloppy, and Michael easily side-stepped him and punched him in the jaw. Quinn screamed and hid her face against Rachel's shoulder. Then Russell was on the floor again; but this time, no one was restraining him. He was knocked out cold.

The rest of the evening was a blur, as police cars crowded into the Fabrays' driveway and statements were given, photos taken of the damage, and the unconscious man carted away in the back of a police cruiser. Quinn was vaguely aware of Rachel's dad examining her, and assuring her mom that she was all right; then of Rachel gently wiping the tears and dried blood from her face with a warm washcloth. Finally, Quinn realized Rachel was speaking to her.

"Baby, can you stand up? We're going back to my house now. You're gonna stay with us tonight, okay?"

"I can't leave"—Quinn protested automatically, but Rachel cut her off.

"Your mom's coming too. We're all going, okay angel?" Quinn blinked, her eyes focusing hazily on her girlfriend.

"I ruined your shirt," she noted, her voice hollow as she fingered the bloody imprint on Rachel's shoulder where she'd pressed her face.

"I don't care about that, Quinn. I care about _you_." Rachel smoothed Quinn's hair back, anxiety plain in her eyes as she stared into her girlfriend's shell-shocked face. "Are you going to be all right?"

"He…he never hit me before, Rachel. I swear." Rachel nodded, not knowing what else to do. "I was having such a good day," Quinn whispered, and she looked so exhausted suddenly; Rachel realized her adrenalin must be draining away now, leaving her empty and spent.

"I'm so sorry, baby." Rachel cupped her hand to Quinn's cheek, and Quinn nuzzled up to her, yawning into her hair. Rachel just didn't have the heart to prod Quinn off the couch now, and she stayed there cuddling her traumatized girlfriend until their collective parents (minus the one who'd done the traumatizing) came and gently nudged them up and out of the house.

Quinn was quiet and clingy in the car, and remained so in the familiar, comforting environment of the Berry's living room, staying curled up against Rachel's side while their parents tried to achieve some sense of normalcy by ordering Chinese takeout and putting on a movie. Judy Fabray was gracious and warm with Rachel's dads, thanking them again and again for protecting Quinn when she couldn't, and Rachel decided that if there was _any_ silver lining to the dark cloud of this evening, their parents' newfound alliance was it. Without meaning to, the dark-haired girl found her mind drifting toward future family vacations, with all of them together on a beach in Bermuda, or skiing the slopes in Vale. She imagined two or three doe-eyed, angelic children smiling up at them on Christmas morning, with _all_ their grandparents present (again, minus the bastard whose name she would never again speak aloud if she could avoid it).

It was a nice image. Rachel smiled softly as she imagined their future, her fingers running lightly through Quinn's hair beside her. Eventually, she noticed that her girlfriend had fallen asleep against her shoulder, and she tried not to jostle her unnecessarily. When the food arrived, though, Rachel kissed the top of Quinn's head and gently shook her awake.

"No, leave us alone," Quinn whimpered, pressing her face into Rachel's neck and curling up tighter against her.

"Shh, it's okay baby," Rachel cooed, scratching her nails lightly up and down Quinn's back to rouse her. "It's just me…we're all safe. Time to have some dinner, okay? Wake up sweetie..." With a soft sigh, Quinn opened her eyes, blinking blearily at Rachel's smiling face.

"Hi," the blonde girl murmured drowsily, reaching out and tracing her fingers over Rachel's lips. Rachel took Quinn's hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.

"Hi angel face," she replied quietly, looking deeply into Quinn's sleepy hazel eyes like she would never get tired of it. "Sorry to wake you up when you look so exhausted, but dinner's here, and I thought you should eat something."

"Ughh...I'm actually a little queasy," Quinn admitted, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "But _you_ should eat something." Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Double-standard much?" The dark-haired girl teased. "You can skip dinner, but I can't?"

"Rach..."

"I'm just teasing, relax. I got you some egg-drop soup, k?" Quinn smiled softly. Whenever she'd been nauseous at night during her pregnancy, Rachel always ordered egg drop soup— it was one of the only things she could stomach under duress. The fact that her girlfriend had known she'd be feeling sick right now, and had gone out of her way to provide for Quinn's needs when she was too upset and out of sorts to even _think _about what she needed for herself, made the miserable knot in her stomach unclench a little.

"Thanks, baby," Quinn murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Rachel's smiling lips. Beaming, the dark-haired girl kissed her back, then pulled her to her feet and into the kitchen, where their parents were chatting like old friends over green tea and scallion pancakes.


	24. Milestones

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 24**

**By JewWitch**

…

The next morning, Jacob greeted Rachel and Quinn in the kitchen when they finally stumbled downstairs a little before eleven, and assured them that they didn't have to go to school today.

"Thanks," Quinn sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table and rubbing her temples.

"Headache?" Rachel asked gently, taking the seat beside her and replacing Quinn's fingers with her own.

"Mmhmm," Quinn agreed absently, closing her eyes. "That feels good, though…" Rachel kept up her light head-rub until Jacob came over with some Tylenol and a glass of water.

"You really ought to take it easy today, both of you," He said as Quinn gratefully took the pills. "Last night took a lot out of you." He squeezed Quinn's shoulder, and kissed the top of Rachel's head.

"Where's my mom?" Quinn yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"She and Daddy are cleaning things up at your house, sweetie. No one wants you going home to bloodstains and broken glass." Jacob's hand was still on Quinn's shoulder, and she leaned against his side, wrapping both arms around his waist in a quiet hug. Jacob ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Thank you," she whispered after a silent minute had passed. "If you guys hadn't been there…I don't know what would've happened."

"You're a part of this family, Quinn. That doesn't change just because you don't live here anymore. And I want you to know that will still be true even if you and Rachel ever break up, okay?"

"Dad!" Rachel hissed indignantly. "We aren't going to break up. What a thing to say! Do you want to jinx us?"

"I don't think your dad reassuring me that I'm a Berry forever is going to jinx our relationship, Rach," Quinn said with a small, but sincere smile on her face. Rachel still looked anxious, so Quinn leaned in and kissed her.

"Well, when you put it like that…" Rachel sighed, and Quinn giggled sleepily, then yawned again. "I'm sensing an all-day movie marathon on the couch in the works. What do you say, sleepyhead?"

"I say yay," Quinn smiled, taking a long gulp of the orange juice Jacob put down in front of her.

"Why don't you go get started now? I'll make some breakfast and bring it out when it's ready. We finally found a decent vegan recipe for blueberry pancakes, if you can believe that."

They spent the day watching all three X-Men movies (Quinn's choice), and Rachel teased Quinn playfully about having a crush on Anna Paquin. When Michael and Judy finally returned from cleaning up the Fabray's, they were chatting like old friends, having reached an agreement that they should all go out for dinner the way they'd planned to the night before, to celebrate Quinn's achievement as a National Merit semi-finalist properly. They all agreed to meet at Breadsticks in an hour, giving everyone the chance to clean up; and Quinn and her mom went home to shower and change while Rachel and her dads got ready at their house. But to Quinn's surprise, her doorbell rang while she was still blowing out her hair, revealing a nervous Rachel fidgeting on her doorstep.

"Hey stranger, haven't seen you in almost an hour," Quinn teased, kissing her anxious-looking girlfriend and pulling her into the house. "Weren't we meeting at the restaurant?"

"Yes, but there was something else, I, um…do you remember what day it is, Quinn?" Rachel shifted nervously from one foot to the other, her huge brown eyes looking up tremulously at the blonde girl in front of her.

"Um…the twelfth?" Quinn shrugged, taking Rachel's hand and pulling her up the stairs. "C'mon, as long as you're here I want to show you the patterns Brit and I picked out for our Regionals costumes." Rachel followed Quinn silently, dejection plain on her face, and Quinn almost blew her cover by laughing out loud at the smaller girl's comically crestfallen expression. When they arrived in the cheerleader's bedroom, though, she opened her top desk drawer and pulled out a small, jewelry-sized box with a gold ribbon tied around it. Rachel's jaw dropped.

"What's that?"

"Happy anniversary," Quinn replied, smirking. Rachel's eyes lit up, and she threw her arms around her girlfriend's neck. Quinn laughed and hugged the smaller girl tightly.

"I thought you forgot!" Rachel squeaked, bouncing onto the bed with the little box gripped tightly in her hands. "Not that I would've really blamed you, after everything you went through yesterday, but still, I was disappointed, but now I'm so relieved I won't even get mad at you for tricking me, you sneaky sneaker…" Rachel babbled as she undid the bow and ripped off the shiny wrapping paper, opening the little box to reveal a small, heavy gold locket with an ornate star engraved on it. In the center of the star was what looked like a real diamond.

"Oh, Quinn…" Rachel gasped.

"I've heard that gold stars are _kind of your thing_," the blonde girl teased gently, sitting beside her speechless girlfriend on the bed and resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "Do you like it, baby?"

"I…I…it's beautiful. I love it. How could you afford this? It looks so expensive…"

"Well, yeah, I wouldn't have been able to just go out and buy this," Quinn admitted a little sheepishly. "But I didn't have to—it was my grandmother's. She left a ton of jewelry to me and my sister, and this one's been screaming your name for a while now. So I didn't really buy it for you. I did get it engraved, though."

With slightly shaking fingers, Rachel popped the little locket open. On one side was the engraving—their initials, RBB & QCF, in lacy old-fashioned script, plus the date 11/12/09, exactly one year ago, the night they'd kissed for the first time. On the other side of the locket was a tiny photo of the two of them that Rachel recognized immediately; it was from a party at Kurt's house just a few weeks ago, when Tina had gone camera-happy and spent half the night snapping candids of everyone. Rachel was sitting in Quinn's lap, arm around her neck, their foreheads touching. Both had the same serene, goofy-happy smile plastered to their faces as they glanced up at the camera, their attention obviously more on each other than on the person taking the picture.

"Oh my god, Quinn…this is the most beautiful thing anyone has _ever_ given me in my _life_," Rachel gushed, throwing her arms around her girlfriend and squeezing her tight. "I love it, and I love you." The blonde girl beamed, taking the delicate gold chain from her girlfriend's hands and putting it around her neck, carefully doing the clasp while Rachel held her hair to one side. Rachel got up, looked at herself in the mirror, and smiled incredulously at her reflection.

"I just hope you'll like yours as much," she gulped, stooping down to remove a slightly larger package from her bag. "Happy anniversary, sunshine." Quinn squealed happily and grabbed the present, bouncing back onto the bed and tearing off the wrapping paper enthusiastically.

"Oh my god…" Quinn whispered, her fingers tracing lightly over the worn cloth cover of the obviously very old book, with _Leaves of Grass_ embossed in gold. "Rachel…is this…?"

"A first edition of your favorite book in the whole wide world? It certainly is. I double-checked the dates myself. Printed in Brooklyn in 1855. Look at the illustration plates…" Rachel flipped through the heavy pages to show Quinn the old-fashioned etchings of Walt Whitman, but Quinn's eyes were too blurred with tears to see them.

"I can't believe you remembered," the blonde girl murmured, shaking her head and beaming. "This is the most beautiful book I've ever seen…" Closing her eyes, Quinn held the book up to her nose and breathed in the scent of the old cloth binding.

"Of course I remembered," Rachel smiled, tucking a lock of blonde hair back behind Quinn's ear and kissing her lightly. "You were so excited when you saw the paperback copy on my bookshelf, you nearly wet yourself. We fell asleep reading to each other…I knew that night that I wanted you forever."

"Baby…" Quinn sighed, slipping one hand into Rachel's hair and kissing her deeply. "I want you forever too," she whispered when they broke apart, hands wandering under each other's shirts, both of them flushed and breathing erratically.

"I can't believe we have to go sit through dinner with our parents now," Rachel groaned, making Quinn giggle and duck her head shyly.

"Yeah…but I'm glad we did this now. I would've been all nervous and twitchy if I had to sit through dinner wondering whether you'd like your present."

"Likewise," Rachel agreed, reaching out to fix Quinn's smudged lipstick with her thumb. "We've got a few more minutes, at least…come here." They curled up against the pillows, holding the book open between them with Rachel's head on Quinn's shoulder. Quietly, the blonde girl flipped to the first page and began to read aloud. Rachel made it slightly more of a challenge by kissing Quinn's neck while she read, giving herself a point every time the blonde girl's breath caught in her throat.

_The smoke of my own breath,  
Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers . . . . loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine,  
My respiration and inspiration . . . . the beating of my heart . . . . the passing of blood and air through my lungs,  
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,  
The sound of the belched words of my voice . . . . words loosed to the eddies of the wind,  
A few light kisses . . . . a few embraces . . . . a reaching around of arms,  
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,  
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,  
The feeling of health . . . . the full-noon trill . . . . the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. _

(-Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself")

They had both completely forgotten about dinner with their parents when a soft knock on Quinn's bedroom door made them freeze, their hands in various naughty places. "Quinnie, are you ready to go?" Judy called through the door.

"Um, almost…but Rachel's here, so you don't have to wait for us— we can just go in her car. You go ahead, okay Mom? We'll be right behind you."

"Oh! I, um…I'm sorry, girls. All right. Just, um…drive safely, then." Quinn snickered and Rachel bit her lip, looking slightly mortified, as the sound of Judy's footsteps retreated down the hall.

"Crap, I am _so_ going to have a heart attack all through dinner now," Rachel moaned, burying her face in Quinn's hair while the blonde girl continued to giggle. "I can't believe you think this is funny!"

"Oh come on, Rach. It _is_ funny. Don't you remember where we were a year ago at this time? _Exactly_ a year ago?" Rachel frowned.

"Yes, Quinn, I haven't gone brain dead in the last five minutes from the power of your lips. Though they _are_ very talented."

"Okay, so…"

"So…a year ago, at this exact moment, more or less, we had our first kiss. I fail to see how this makes being interrupted by your mom right now less horrifying."

"Thank you, miss selective memory. Apparently being interrupted by your dad doesn't count for as much in your neurons, huh?"

"Oh…" Rachel blinked. She did remember…but as Quinn jokingly pointed out, the memory of her daddy walking in on them wasn't nearly as powerful in her brain as the kissing Quinn Fabray part. "Oops." The dark-haired girl grinned sheepishly. "All right, I concede that it is indeed funny; in the ironic sense if not the satirical." Quinn smiled, and pressed one final soft kiss to Rachel's lips.

"You are such a geek," the cheerleader murmured under her breath; but the way she said it made it sound like a compliment. "C'mon, we'd better get to the restaurant before our parents have time to get any more creative visuals." Rachel pouted.

"But I'm having fun _here_," the little diva whined, tracing teasing patterns over Quinn's exposed skin with the tips of her fingers. The blonde girl sighed and arched her back, pushing herself up into her girlfriend's exploring touch.

"Well we'll just have to come back here after dinner, then, won't we?"


	25. A First Time for Everything

Hey all,

I'm sorry about the long-ish wait for this update—real life got in the way of Faberry fun. I'm also sorry this chap isn't very long…I thought about holding off on posting this till I had time to make it longer, but then I thought that you'd probably rather have something now than nothing at all. Rest assured, the next update won't be such a long wait—I have a 5 hour train ride to my dad's next week for Thanksgiving, then another 5 hour train ride home! Train time = writing time = more updates for you. So, I hope you'll enjoy this little Faberry appetizer—Happy Thanksgiving!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 25**

**By JewWitch**

…

Rachel wrapped her scarf around her neck and rubbed her mitten-covered hands together. It had been unseasonably warm up until a few days ago, but now it seemed that November had suddenly remembered that it was supposed to be cold, and was making up for lost time. Normally, the dark-haired girl wouldn't risk her voice and her health by sitting around on cold metal stadium stands for hours on end in frigid weather like this; but her idea of "normal" had been pretty thoroughly upended once Quinn came into her life, and she wasn't about to miss the chance to watch her girlfriend cheer. Besides, what if people noticed her absence and thought Quinn was available? Rachel couldn't have that.

"Cocoa, miss thang?" Blaine asked, offering her a cupful of steaming hot cocoa from the thermos at his feet.

"As I have repeatedly told you, Blaine, I'm a vegan. But go ahead and ruin your own vocal chords with hormone-infested dairy products; it will make my victory over you at Sectionals that much easier."

"Ooh, _sass!_ Well I suppose I'll just have to enjoy this delicious _soy_ hot cocoa all by myself…" He had the cup halfway to his lips when Rachel grabbed it, and the dark-haired boy burst into laughter.

"You should've said the soy part first," she sniped; then when she saw his sly grin and realized he was just messing with her, an unwilling smile spread across her face. "Sass yourself," she added, taking a long sip. "Mmmm."

"Cheers, queers," Blaine smirked, toasting her with his own cup. Rachel giggled and toasted him back.

"I have to admit, it _is_ rather nice to have your company out here. Everyone else from Glee who comes to football games is out on the field, and though I certainly enjoy watching Quinn shine, she's not performing every single minute. The actual football part is about as interesting to me as watching paint dry."

"Well thank you darling, you're not such bad company yourself. Though I have to admit, I _do_ enjoy watching the game…especially since your team always loses."

"Yeah. They suck," Rachel shrugged disinterestedly. "But our Cheerios are champions!" As she spoke, the buzzer sounded for halftime, and the battered football team trudged to the sidelines as the cheerleaders took the field. Rachel and Blaine both beamed, so focused on the objects of their affection that they didn't notice the opposing cheer squad at first. But slowly, the uneasy snickering around them got louder, and Rachel finally tore her eyes away from Quinn to see what the other team was doing.

"Queerios! Queerios!" The Carmel cheer squad was jeering, their routine a mockery of limp-wristed, prissy sashays. Then they lifted up their captain, sporting a blond wig and bearing a hand-made sign with the words _McKinley High Head Dyke_ scrawled across it in big bubble letters. Rachel's jaw dropped. Sure, it wasn't a huge shock to see cheerleaders being homophobic jerks; but this was cheerleaders being homophobic jerks to _other cheerleaders,_ in front of a football stadium full of people. The reactions of said audience were mixed; a few stood up and booed, a few laughed, but mostly people seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed…which, obviously, was the point.

"Ignorant assholes," Blaine growled. Rachel nodded mutely. She wasn't sure what to do—she knew that Quinn was both proud and headstrong, and for her to intercede might send the message that she didn't think Quinn could fight her own battles. On the other hand, the blonde girl had never really faced homophobic bullying before—and right now, even from up in the stands, Rachel could see the shocked, deer-in-the-headlights look on her girlfriend's face as she stood frozen, pompoms dangling limply at her sides, staring at the parody being made of her.

Before Rachel reached a decision, Santana spared her by breaking ranks and charging at the other team with her fists. _That_ effectively ended their taunting cheer, and the fiery Latina managed to bloody three faces before Coach Sylvester pulled her off the opposing team and started shouting—not, as everyone expected, at Santana, but rather at the other team's coach. It was such a shock to see Sue Sylvester actually _defending_ her students, and yelling at another coach about proper sportsmanship and bullying, that Rachel was temporarily transfixed.

"Should we go after them?" Blaine asked, jolting Rachel out of her temporary Sue Sylvester shock-and-awe trance.

"Huh?"

"Quinn and Kurt. Didn't you see? Quinn just ran off the field, and Kurt followed her."

….

They found their Cheerios in the girls' locker room. Quinn was sitting on the cold concrete floor with her back to the lockers and her knees pulled up to her chest, face hidden, crying softly. Kurt was standing above her with his arms crossed, and an impatient look on his face.

"Honestly, Quinn, you should be grateful you haven't had to deal with any of this sooner. Did you think that being a cute blonde cheerleader would protect you from ever getting gaybashed for the rest of your life? _Really,_ I thought you were smart or something."

"Shut your mouth, Kurt Hummel," Rachel snapped, glaring at him as she crouched down beside Quinn on the floor. Kurt just rolled his eyes at Blaine, who squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. It was obvious Kurt resented Quinn's thin-skinned reaction to the taunting he'd been enduring stoically all his life. And while in theory, Rachel sympathized—she'd gone through it too, because of her dads—she didn't want to see her girlfriend suffer through it, either.

"Quinn, are you okay? Get off the floor, it's freezing…c'mon, stand up." Rachel tugged on her girlfriend's arm. Quinn stood up and kicked the lockers, hard.

"Dyke drama," Blaine stage-whispered to Kurt, who giggled. Rachel glared at them.

"Feel free to leave if you can't find a way to make yourselves useful," she snapped at the boys, who immediately dropped their grins.

"Look, Rachel, I don't know what you want us to say," Blaine shrugged sympathetically. This is Ohio. Homophobia is everywhere. Just because the two of you are all girly and non-threatening doesn't make you exempt. Running away from the bullies isn't helping anything—if anything, it tells them to just keep on doing what they're doing, because it's working. You can't let them chase you off your own field, Quinn."

"I know, okay?" Quinn yelled, kicking the lockers again. "I'm sorry! I'm not the perfect unflappable queer youth poster child like you guys. Just give me a God damn minute to get it together, will you? Fuck!" Everyone fell silent then. Rachel put her hand on Quinn's shoulder, but Quinn shrugged her off.

"Quinn…" Rachel murmured gently, desperate to say the right thing that would make it all better.

"Don't, Rach. Just don't. Please just leave me alone for a few minutes, okay? I know I can't hide in here all night, but…please, just let me be."

"Uhh…okay…" Rachel gulped, blinking back the tears that sprang up as the blonde-haired girl turned her back on her. She just wanted to fix it so badly. "I…I'll just go back to my seat, then…I'll wait for you after the game, okay?"

"Fine."

After the game, Quinn said she had a headache and just wanted to go home. Normally Rachel would've offered (or insisted, more likely) to come along, happy to spend a lazy night in with her girlfriend on the couch, cuddling her until she felt better. But right now, Rachel could tell that Quinn didn't want company; and even though it felt like a punch in the stomach, she tried not to take it personally. She didn't want to go to Puck's party on her own, either, so she just went home, spending the night playing Scrabble and eating soy ice cream with her dads. She didn't tell them about the incident at the football game; just that Quinn went home early with a headache.

The next day was the start of Thanksgiving break, and Rachel went over to Quinn's as soon as she woke up, without calling first. The blonde girl answered the door still in her pajamas, looking adorably disheveled.

"Hi," Rachel said nervously, twisting the end of her scarf between her fingers. "Can I come in?"

"Hmmm, I dunno," Quinn mused, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "What are you gonna do to make it worth my while?" Smiling a hundred-watt Rachel Berry smile, the dark-haired girl slipped her cold fingers into Quinn's hair and kissed her thoroughly. "Okay, that was definitely while-worthy," Quinn sighed, and Rachel giggled, following her girlfriend into the warm house.

"Quinn, about last night"—

"I don't want to talk about last night, Rach. I know I suck. I totally failed at standing up for myself. I'll do better next time. Let's just move on, okay?"

"Quinn Fabray, you do _not_ suck." Rachel scolded, hands on her hips. "Not unless I ask you to, anyway. Then you're quite good at it."

"Gutterbrain," Quinn smirked, rolling her eyes.

"You love it," Rachel insisted, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's neck.

"I love it," Quinn agreed, leaning down and kissing her deeply. Rachel sighed blissfully.

"So, your mom's at work, right?"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed, her hands slipping under Rachel's sweater to tease the small of her back. "Wanna go upstairs? We have a couple of hours to kill before we have to go back to your place."

"What are you talking about? We have all _day_," Rachel disagreed.

"Um, no, we have until 11, which is what time I told your dad I'd come over to be his Thanksgiving sous-chef."

"What? You're helping my dad cook when you could've spent the whole day here with me, in a completely unsupervised house?"

"Well when you say it like _that_…"

"Quinn!"

"Rachel!" Quinn laughed at the indignant pout on the smaller girl's face. "You know I like to cook, _and_ I miss spending time with your dads since I moved out. And furthermore, Miss Berry, it was your idea for me and my mom to have Thanksgiving at your house. I _have_ to help. Now do you want to make the most of the free time we _do_ have, or would you rather just pout till it's time to go?"

"Furthermore?" Rachel repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I think my speech patterns are finally starting to rub off on you, blondie."

"I can think of a few other things I'd rather have you rub on me," Quinn murmured huskily, twirling a lock of Rachel's hair between her fingers.

"_Now_ who's the gutterbrain?" Rachel smirked, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling her toward the stairs.


	26. A Very Faberry Thanksgiving

Hi all! Happy Thanksgiving! Here is an update to bring you holiday cheer. Hope you enjoy!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 26**

**By JewWitch**

…

Quinn dragged a pouting Rachel home promptly at 11am on Thanksgiving day, when she'd promised to help Jacob, Rachel's stay-at-home dad, with the food prep. Rachel whined all the way about their interrupted naked time, until Quinn not-so-gently reminded her that she didn't have to come if she didn't want to, and that if all she could do was complain, maybe she'd rather just stay at Quinn's house and pout all by herself. That effectively shut the little diva up, though Quinn remained unconvinced as to whether or not there would really be any more pouting. In the end, Rachel gave in and said that if peeling potatoes was how Quinn _really_ wanted to spend her vacation day, then she'd help, too, just to spend time with her. And once they had some holiday music playing, and hot mulled cider to sip, spending the day in the kitchen turned out to be more fun than Rachel cared to admit. It wasn't long before they were singing along to "Baby, It's Cold Outside" on the radio, and attacking each other with fistfuls of flour over the kitchen island. Jacob was happy to slip away when the doorbell rang, hollering over his shoulder that they had better clean up that mess before the family arrived.

"Do you surrender?" Quinn giggled, her fistful of flour poised over Rachel's head. The blonde girl's face was already thoroughly powdered, streaks of flour sticking to her hair and eyelashes.

"Never!" Rachel cried, bravely closing her eyes as Quinn's flour-bomb exploded over her head. They were both laughing and coughing in the cloud of powdery whiteness when the kitchen door opened again, revealing a figure too diminutive to be Rachel's dad through the floury fog.

"Good lord, what kind of baked-goods riot have I stumbled into?" Kurt's prim voice cut through the raucous laughter, and both girls felt their giggles taper off as they looked into his clear, slightly anxious blue eyes.

"Kurt…what brings you to my kitchen on this lovely Thanksgiving day?" Rachel asked formally, which might have seemed silly in the context of their giggling and flour-fighting if it were someone else; but Rachel (and Kurt, for that matter) defaulted to formality and pomp whenever uncertainty or anxiety arose. Right now, Quinn felt very aware of both.

"I'm sorry to disturb your, um…whatever it is you're doing here," Kurt gestured around the flour explosion covering the half-completed baking projects scattered around the Berry's kitchen, "But I just wanted to drop by with this pumpkin loaf, to apologize for my behavior last night." He pushed the brightly-wrapped loaf pan into Quinn's hands, adding hastily, "It's organic and sugar-free, of course. Cheerios-diet approved."

"Um…thanks," Quinn said warily, putting the peace-offering aside and dusting off her hands on her jeans.

"After you left, I just felt awful about how unsympathetic I was," Kurt continued, obviously prepared to give a little speech about exactly how sorry he was, and why—not unlike Rachel, Quinn thought fleetingly. "At first I didn't understand why I was reacting that way; but I think I was just jealous that you were having such an easy time being out at school, when I'd been getting teased and tossed in dumpsters since third grade. I know it's nasty and unfair, but there was a part of me that was glad to see the all-mighty Quinn Fabray finally get gaybashed." Kurt shrugged apologetically, looking down at his shoes. "You know what they say—misery loves company."

"I understand," Quinn nodded quietly, reaching out and squeezing Kurt's delicate hand in her own. "And you're right—it _is_ nasty and unfair when idiots like Karovsky and Azimio go after you. I don't blame you for being impatient with me when I gave up so easily…when you've been fighting so hard for so long…"

"No, Quinn, I should have remembered that it was new for you, and done my part to help see you through, rather than tear you down even more. We're a team, after all—we have to stick together. Right, Rachel?" Kurt directed himself to the tiny brunette scowling in the corner, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. She had her _nobody messes with my girl_ face on, and Quinn wasn't too proud to admit she kind of liked how nervous it made Kurt. But just for a second.

"Of course we do," Quinn hastily agreed, throwing her arms around Kurt's neck in a floury hug. "And of course I forgive you—if you can forgive _me_ for not standing up for _you_ more, all these years. I promise, from now on, we look out for each other. Right, Rach?" Blue and hazel eyes both looked hopefully to brown then; and finally Rachel huffed and uncrossed her arms.

"Well, we _are_ a team," the little brunette admitted grudgingly. "And if we're going to make it to Nationals, we're certainly going to need all hands on deck along the way. So, yes, of course we should look out for each other. Though I'm fairly certain the football team already TP'd the Carmel team's bus in retribution for last night's incident, anyway."

"It's good to have a few football goons on _our_ side for once," Kurt agreed, flashing the girls his dazzling (if now flour-smudged) smile.

"Yes, and we know who we have to thank for that, don't we?" Rachel asked pointedly, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend's hip possessively.

"Rachel, stop," Quinn blushed, though she leaned into the embrace and draped her own arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "I'm not, like, the official jock outreach liaison or anything. But maybe we should ask Santana if she wants the job? I don't think there's anyone dumb enough to sass her on the field."

After Kurt left, Quinn and Rachel cleaned up their mess in the kitchen, and left Jacob to finish the cooking while they went upstairs to shower. When Rachel came out of the bathroom, fresh and clean and wrapped in a towel, she was expecting her girlfriend to pounce on her immediately—Quinn never could resist Rachel fresh from the shower. But this time, the blonde girl didn't even look up when her girlfriend came into the room. Frowning, Rachel crossed to where Quinn sat, hunched over the desk, to see what she was looking at.

"Missing her today, aren't you?" Rachel asked gently, tugging on a lock of Quinn's golden hair.

"Yeah," Quinn whispered, not looking up from the photo lying on the desk: a smiling baby with wispy brown hair and hazel eyes flecked with green, sitting up and waving her rattle gleefully at the camera. Behind the photo was the letter from Beth's adoptive parents, Jack and Rob Morgan-Greene, filling Quinn in on all the milestones in Beth's life since their last letter and photo at the end of August. Rachel knew everything in the letter; she knew the seven-month-old was now crawling and eating solid food, loved bananas and tickle-me-elmo, and that she was a veritable prodigy when it came to finger–painting. She knew all this because she was the one who read the letters aloud to Quinn, who couldn't bear to read them herself. Rachel also knew that each of the three letters Quinn had received ended with an open invitation for Quinn to come visit them in Cincinnati; so far, she'd declined them all.

"Maybe it's time to take a trip to Cincinnati," Rachel said quietly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Quinn's neck. Quinn always liked that.

"Would you come?" Quinn asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, angel," Rachel murmured, kissing Quinn's temple. Quinn looked up, finally, and gave her girlfriend a sad, but beautiful smile.

"Okay," she nodded.

An hour later, the Berry house was full to bursting with Thanksgiving guests—Quinn and her mother, of course, plus Rachel's Aunt Sandy and her grown son, Leon, with his wife Amy and their baby daughter Lucy, now fourteen months old. Rachel realized belatedly that having a baby at Thanksgiving dinner might be hard for Quinn; but what could she do? She tried to keep her girlfriend engaged in constant conversation so her attention wouldn't wander to the baby's end of the table, bragging again to all her relations about Quinn's achievement as a National Merit Semi-Finalist; but she still noticed the baby shooting playful peek-a-boo looks their way, and Quinn peeking shyly back. And when little Lucy started fussing halfway through dinner, forcing her mother to release her from her high-chair, the baby toddled straight to Quinn, squealing and stretching out her chubby little arms in the universal symbol for _pick me up!_

Rachel's insides twisted in panic, but Quinn didn't even bat an eyelash, picking up the baby and plopping her in her lap without breaking the conversation with her mom, Jacob and Michael about what songs they were hoping to sing at Sectionals. Rachel watched her girlfriend, transfixed and uncharacteristically silent as she took in the calm, natural way Quinn played with the baby's curious fingers as she talked, bouncing her lightly on one knee without even seeming to notice what she was doing. It made Rachel's heart thud with fierce love for the blonde girl beside her, once again plunging her into an idyllic future fantasy of this same scene, maybe ten years down the line, with _their_ baby in Quinn's lap, and her wedding ring on Quinn's finger.

It was a beautiful fantasy; and Rachel knew, she just knew deep in the center of her being, that someday it would be real. "I love you," She whispered low in the blonde girl's ear, wrapping her hand around Quinn's and the baby's in her lap. Lucy cooed delightedly, her free hand immediately reaching up to grab and handful of Rachel's hair; out of the corner of her eye, the dark-haired starlet noticed the adults' beaming smiles of approval just as Quinn turned her head, and unselfconsciously kissed her on the lips.

"I love you more," Quinn murmured.

Later, when the table was cleared and the guests had all gone home, Rachel left Quinn asleep on the couch in front of Project Runway and slipped upstairs to call the Morgan-Greene family and arrange a visit to Cincinnati. She was surprised at how nervous she felt as the phone rang, hot sweat springing up on the back of her neck as a pleasant male voice picked up.

"Hello, Morgan-Greene residence, happy Thanksgiving!"

"Um, hi Mr. Morgan-Greene…this is Rachel Berry. I'm Quinn Fabray's girlfriend?"

"Yes, of course we remember you, Rachel. How's everything in Lima? How's Quinn?"

"She's a National Merit Semi-Finalist," Rachel blurted out nervously, unable to think of anything more appropriate. And, really, she never got tired of bragging about her brilliant girlfriend.

"No kidding? Well that's fantastic! I'm sure Jack will be thrilled to hear it—I know he's hoping that Beth will grow up to be a science geek like him."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded against the phone, strangely relieved not be the one to bring up the baby first. "Well, um, about Beth…we'd like to take you up on your offer to come visit her soon."

…

Rachel was sitting at her desk with her math homework when Quinn stumbled in, yawning and rubbing her eyes, an hour later. Her golden blonde hair was adorably rumpled, and there was a line down the side of her face where her cheek had pressed into the edge of the couch cushion. Rachel found the entire effect of 'sleepy Quinn' painfully adorable, and immediately abandoned her math notes to wrap her arms around her girlfriend's neck and cover her face with kisses.

"Did you have a good nap, sunshine?" the dark-haired girl murmured, running her fingers through Quinn's golden locks and lightly rubbing her scalp.

"Mmhmm," Quinn purred, closing her eyes in appreciation of Rachel's indulgent head-rub. "I could've slept longer, but I was afraid I'd be up all night…don't wanna mess up my sleep schedule."

"That's a highly advisable plan, Quinn. Especially because we're going to have a very early day tomorrow—it would be difficult to get up at 5am if you're not getting to bed early the night before."

"_Why_ exactly are we getting up at 5am on a vacation day, babe?" Quinn frowned, her unenthusiastic expression conveying just how much she valued sleep over other concerns during school vacation. "If it has anything to do with black Friday, then you can just forget about it—I'd rather get slushied at Homecoming than fight my way through those psychotic, mindless mobs just to get 20% off Guitar Hero Rock Warriors or whatever."

"We're not going Christmas shopping," Rachel smiled nervously, feeling the sweat spring up on the back of her neck again. "We're going to Cincinnati to see Beth."

_"What?"_ Quinn's warm, sleepy expression turned hard and icy in an instant. Rachel felt her heart sink, and her stomach clench nervously under her girlfriend's furious glare.

"Well, I just—you said—I thought"—Rachel stammered, her cheeks flushing bright red as she hastily tried to explain herself.

"You thought you'd just decide _for_ me, as usual? God Rachel, I know you like to be in charge of _everything_, but I would've expected you to at _least_ respect my right to decide for myself when I'm ready to visit my own daughter!"

"Quinn, I'm sorry! I was just trying to help! You said you wanted me there, so…"

"Yeah, I wanted you there. I didn't want you to just take over. You had no right to go behind my back with this, Rachel." Quinn's face was flushed, and Rachel shrank back, her eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm sorry…I w-wasn't t-trying to go b-behind your back…" Rachel gulped, trying to control her stuttering tears; she was hurt and confused, and didn't want to be a baby on top of it. "I…I'll call them back and tell them we can't come tomorrow. I'll tell them whatever you want. It's completely your decision, okay? I'm sorry…" Rachel sniffled and wiped her eyes hastily on her sleeve as her stomach bunched up in knots of misery. She heard Quinn sigh heavily.

"No…don't do that. I mean…if they're already expecting us…" Rachel looked up hopefully, taking in Quinn's pained expression. "We should probably just go."

"Only if you want to," Rachel shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears and sitting beside the blonde girl on the bed, lightly squeezing her knee.

"I do," Quinn admitted, slipping her hand into Rachel's on her knee. "I'm sorry, Rach…I didn't mean to get so angry. You didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help me do something I was afraid to do myself. I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, baby," Rachel sighed, pulling Quinn down into a tight hug, wrapping arms and legs around the shaking blonde. "I think that 'first visit to the baby you gave up for adoption' goes in the get-out-of-jail-free column as far as freak-outs go." Quinn laughed weakly against Rachel's shoulder.

"So we're going to Cincinnati."

"Yeah."

"…At 5am."

"Yeah."

"Okay then…but if you expect me to get behind the wheel at that ungodly hour, you're gonna have to entertain me. And I get control of the iPod."


	27. Beth

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 27**

**By JewWitch**

…

Quinn pulled up in front of a neat two-story colonial on a well-manicured street, and cut the engine. She stared straight ahead, gripping the wheel tightly in both hands; then she started to hyperventilate.

"I can't do this," she choked, her voice sharp with panic. "Oh God, I'm freaking out…I c-can't breathe…"

"It's okay Quinn, you're just having a panic attack," Rachel said sympathetically, pulling a small paper bag out of her purse and handing it to her shaking girlfriend. "Just relax and breathe into this, and you'll be fine. Shh, it's all right…" Rachel rubbed Quinn's back while the blonde girl pressed the paper bag over her nose and mouth, breathing shallow, jagged breaths until her heart rate began to calm, and a little bit of color returned to her pale cheeks. She closed her eyes, and sighed heavily.

"Do you always carry a paper bag around in your purse?" she asked wryly, lowering the crumpled bag and wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

"Ah, no. I merely thought there was some likelihood that you might need it today," Rachel admitted, folding the little paper sack back up and tucking it neatly away.

"Thanks," Quinn murmured, grinning weakly.

"You're welcome," Rachel smiled back encouragingly. "Do you feel better now, baby?"

"Do you remember that scene in Alien when the creature explodes out of the guy's stomach?" Quinn joked, rather badly.

"I promise to ensure that no foreign bodies erupt from any of your internal organs," Rachel replied solemnly, a tiny twitch of a smile on her face as she squeezed Quinn's cold hand.

"Rachel…I don't know if I can do this." Quinn's hazel eyes were wide and terrified as she looked into her girlfriend's dark brown, searching for some anchor, something she could trust and believe in more than she trusted herself right now. Rachel leaned in, taking Quinn's face firmly between her hands and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to her trembling lips. Quinn leaned automatically into her.

"You _can_ do this, Quinn. And more than that, I know you _want_ to do this. We can turn around and go back to Lima right now…but I think you'll regret it if we do." Rachel stroked Quinn's temples with her thumbs as she spoke, their faces close enough to feel each other's warm breath. Quinn sighed, and pressed her forehead against Rachel's, closing her eyes.

"Do you know how hopelessly, utterly lost I would be without you, Rach?"

"Yes, I think so…but you can keep telling me anyway," Rachel beamed. Quinn snorted and shook her head.

"I don't know how long I'm gonna be able to stand it—being in there. Will you be mad if I want to leave after 20 minutes or something?"

"Of course not, baby. Whatever you want today, you get—I'll be right behind you, no matter what."

"Yeah?" Quinn raised an eyebrow disbelievingly; it was profoundly unlike Rachel to give her the reins without any qualifiers or addendums.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded, smiling magnanimously. Her expression faltered slightly when she saw the devilish glint returning to Quinn's eyes.

"Okay then. Let's go, my little slave-girl."

"Quinn, I never said"—

"Ahh, too late now!" Quinn smirked, wagging her finger at her girlfriend as she finally opened the car door and stepped out into the frosty street. Rachel rolled her eyes, but returned her girlfriend's mischievous grin as she followed.

It was Jack who answered the door, tall and thin with a swimmer's build, his blonde hair and beard neatly trimmed, with kind hazel eyes—not unlike Quinn's and Beth's—behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Hello girls, come in! Come in! It's freezing out there." He wasn't shy about ushering them into the foyer with a hand on each of their shoulders, propelling them towards the warmth and delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen. "I hope you didn't eat on the road, because Rob's cooking up one of his signature holiday breakfasts—and we've even got some vegan selections for Rachel, which I _guarantee_ you no one else here will eat."

"Thank you, that sounds lovely," Quinn smiled graciously, allowing Jack to take her coat and bag. Once they'd hung their coats, Jack ushered them into the bright kitchen, where his husband stood at the stove, slightly shorter and stockier, with sandy brown hair that hung over his ears. He waved hello to them, and Rachel greeted him back; but Quinn's full attention was on the playpen in the corner of the room. All her senses seemed to sharpen and focus on the little head of dark hair that was just visible inside.

"Would you like to hold her?" Jack asked, suddenly beside Quinn with his hand on her shoulder again. Quinn just nodded, the lump in her throat too thick to speak. Her knees were trembling, too, and she was relieved that Jack guided her to a chair at the kitchen table before getting the baby out of her playpen. Rachel's gaze went back and forth between Quinn and the baby, her own nerves suddenly skyrocketing as she tried to balance Quinn's anxiety with her own—in some ways, though she would never say so to Quinn, she felt that she'd given this baby up, too.

As soon as the little face cleared the top of the playpen, Rachel felt her heart squeeze in her chest, so intense was the resemblance between mother and daughter. Beth had Quinn's exact eyes, her cute little nose; her slightly serious and inquisitive expression. Apart from her mop of dark hair, which she had obviously inherited from Puck, this baby was pure Quinn.

"Oh…hi there," Quinn whispered, her voice awed and reverent as she took her baby in her arms. Beth gurgled, looked up into Quinn's hazel eyes, and beamed at her with a wide, toothless grin. Rachel couldn't help pulling her chair a little closer to Quinn's, letting one hand rest on her girlfriend's leg. She didn't want to take over—Quinn had been very clear about that—but she did want to let her girlfriend know that she was here, offering her whatever silent assurances she could.

"You're so beautiful, aren't you?" Quinn cooed to the baby, who continued to smile delightedly up at her, grabbing fistfuls of her sweater in chubby little fists.

"She's absolutely angelic," Rachel gushed, leaning into Quinn's shoulder. Beth noticed the other girl then, blinking as her gaze shifted from Quinn to Rachel; and she reached out one tiny hand toward the dark-haired girl. Rachel caught her outstretched fingers, and Beth shrieked with delight, waving her hand up and down with Rachel's thumb held firmly in her grip.

"Greetings and salutations," Rachel said formally to the infant, and Quinn laughed, all the tension and anxiety leaving her body in a rush.

"Do you want to hold her, Rach?" Quinn asked quietly, and Rachel nodded, silent for once as she kept her gaze locked on the tiny face beaming up at her. Beth squealed happily as she was handed off from Quinn to Rachel, delighted with all the attention.

"She's so like you, Quinn," Rachel sighed, cradling the baby's warm weight in her lap as her eyes swam with a sudden onslaught of tears. She tried to blink them away, but they just spilled down her cheeks.

"Hoping she'd look more like you?" Quinn joked, brushing Rachel's tears away with her thumb.

"I'm sorry," Rachel sniffed, tearing her gaze away from the baby to look up at Quinn, whose sad smile was full of understanding. "I know I'm not supposed to cry…I'm supposed to be strong for you…"

"Don't be an idiot, of course you can cry. We both gave her up." Quinn's eyes had turned bright with tears, too, and they were both relieved when Rob came over and asked if they were ready to have the best breakfast of their lives.

"I'm sure you're an excellent chef, Rob, but you can't possibly know that Quinn already holds the world's best breakfast title with her Christmas-morning crepes," Rachel explained politely, accepting a plate with French toast, tofu scramble, and what looked like some kind of veggie-sausage. "All this stuff is vegan, right?"

"Oh yes, this _is_ a gay household, you know. We do have other vegan friends." Rob winked at her, and she smiled. Across the table, Jack was strapping Beth into her highchair. The baby squealed and banged on the tray until he gave her a spoonful of mashed bananas.

"Thanks for feeding us; this looks really great," Quinn added politely, pouring a dollop of syrup on her French toast.

"You're only saying that 'cause you get bacon," Rachel teased, and Quinn stuck out her tongue. Rachel giggled and kissed the end of her nose.

"Good lord, you two are just sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity," Rob beamed, making them both blush and break apart, applying themselves virtuously to their breakfasts.

"Babe, you're embarrassing them," Jack scolded, swatting his husband's shoulder.

"It's okay, we're used to it," Quinn smiled shyly, her nails grazing Rachel's knee under the table. "Rachel's dads tease us all the time."

"And how are things at school? Has the utopian age of diversity and acceptance finally arrived in America's youth?" Rob asked, one eye on his guests and one eye on the spoonful of bananas he was feeding the baby, who looked sticky and delighted by now.

"I wish I could say that it had…but not everyone at our school has it as good as we do," Quinn sighed, nibbling appreciatively on her bacon. "I'm not sure how it worked out so well for us, but ever since I got my spot back as head cheerleader, we've become kind of a power-couple at our school…but our friend Kurt is still getting tossed in the dumpster and shoved into lockers. I wish I knew how to make it stop." Quinn stabbed at her French toast, and Rachel scratched her nails affectionately over her girlfriend's back, touched as always to hear Quinn speaking so protectively of their less fortunate friend. "It's so unfair…"

"Oh, honey, we know how he feels," Jack sighed, reaching out and taking the bowl of bananas from Rob, switching their positions so Rob could eat his breakfast and Jack could feed Beth for a while. "But if you only knew how much change we've seen since we were your age…it's incredible how far we've come as a society. If you had told me when I was 16 that when I was 34 I'd be able to openly marry my husband, adopt a baby, _and_ see gay characters on primetime network television, I swear I would've thought it was a fantasy. Believe me, it _will_ get better for him, too."

"We'll tell him you said that," Rachel smiled sadly, popping a bite of French toast in her mouth. "This _is_ really good," she added reluctantly.

After breakfast, Rob led them to Beth's room and spread out all her favorite toys on the floor, while Jack stayed behind to do the dishes. Rachel found the tickle-me-Elmo that was Beth's favorite, and the baby shrieked with delight as the dark-haired girl made the stuffed animal talk and play with all of Beth's toys in turn (Quinn voiced the other animals as needed). Eventually, the sounds of laughter turned to grumpy whining, and Rachel wondered aloud whether she'd overdone the dramatic tension of Elmo's tea party with President Obama.

"She's just tired, Rach," Quinn said, smiling gently as she stood up with Beth in her arms, rocking her gently against her shoulder as the baby fussed and rubbed her eyes.

"Yep, I'm afraid it's just about nap time for our little star," Rob agreed, holding out his arms for the baby. Rachel watched as Quinn silently handed her over, the pain in her eyes obvious (at least to Rachel) as the warm weight of the baby's little body left her arms.

"I need to use the bathroom," Quinn murmured, and hastily slipped from the room. Rachel glanced awkwardly after her.

"I'll just let you…" Rachel gestured from Rob to the crib, indicating that she'd leave him to finish putting the baby down for her nap alone, and he nodded, his look equally awkward, but compassionate. Rachel tiptoed down the hall uncertainly, wondering whether the right thing to do was leave her girlfriend alone to process whatever feelings she was having right now, or to go check up on her. She wavered in the middle of the hall, until she heard a choked sob from the bathroom. The sound pulled Rachel in magnetically; she was, quite simply, physically incapable of walking away from the sound of Quinn crying.

"Quinn? Can I come in, baby?" Rachel knocked very lightly on the door, waiting patiently until it opened, and she was allowed inside. Quinn pulled her to the floor, and they stayed wrapped around each other, trembling and crying softly, for a few long, quiet minutes. Rachel stroked Quinn's hair, and Quinn hid her face against Rachel's throat until she could breathe normally again.

"Can we go home now?" Quinn whispered, finally picking her head up to look in Rachel's eyes, which were just as red as her own. Rachel nodded, wiping the tear tracks from Quinn's pink cheeks with her thumbs. "You're so awesome, Rachel," Quinn sniffled, smiling weakly.

"It's easy, when I'm with you. You make me a better person, Quinn…you know that, don't you?" The dark-haired girl said simply, stroking her Cheerio's hair back behind one ear. Quinn sighed, wiping Rachel's tear tracks away the same way her girlfriend had just done to her; then kissed her urgently for a few minutes before they pulled apart, panting, and scrambled to their feet, both utterly spent and overwhelmed.

Jack and Rob were gracious when they said their goodbyes, and Quinn surprised Rachel by asking her to drive on the return trip to Lima—normally, the blonde girl was extremely protective of her car, and never let anyone else behind the wheel. But Rachel swallowed her shock and willingly took the keys. As they approached the on-ramp to the highway, she turned to ask her girlfriend if she wanted to stop somewhere to get a coffee for the road; but Quinn was fast asleep in her seat, mouth half-open, with her head lolling on her shoulder. Rachel slipped a hand over Quinn's knee, and left it there all the way back to Lima.


	28. Fluffy Monsters & Herbal Tea

Hi guys! A couple of notes on this chapter:

The Hebrew word חי means "life," and is generally considered very lucky, popping up often in Jewish folklore & culture. It's pronounced like "high," but instead of an _h_ sound at the beginning, you make a sound like you have a piece of popcorn stuck in the back of your throat. You'll understand why I'm telling you this when you get to it. There's a pun involved ;)

This chapter is heavily influenced by my reading earlier this weekend about production being halted on Glee for a while because Dianna has tonsillitis. I was _most_ upset with Lea, because apparently the same day that Dianna tweeted that she was home sick in bed, Lea was tweeting about what a beautiful day it was and how she went hiking and had a massage. I was _very_ displeased with Ms. Lea for this. I don't know about you guys, but my love for Faberry stems _directly_ from my love for Achele, and all the sweet, adorable, and downright _hot_ photos of the two of them all over each other everywhere they go. And, yeah, I know that all the rumors about them being a couple _might not_ be true; but either way, they _obviously_ have a very, very close relationship, and I don't like to think about Lea running off to enjoy the lovely weekend while her lady is stuck at home in bed! So this is Rachel's rebuttal, if you will. Extra-fluffy. Serve with hot chocolate and marshmallows!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 28**

**By JewWitch**

…

It was snowing when they got back to Lima, fat, heavy flakes swirling down through the sky and sticking to the slick road. Rachel was grateful they were almost home when it started to get bad, and she pulled cautiously into her driveway with a heavy sigh of relief. It wouldn't help her chances of driving Quinn's car again if she totaled it. She killed the ignition and turned toward the blonde girl in the passenger seat, still fast asleep. She looked so exhausted, Rachel hated to wake her…but without the engine running, the temperature inside the car would soon start to plummet, and the little diva wasn't about to leave her girlfriend out here to freeze, either. Reluctantly, she reached out and stroked the sleeping girl's cheek, leaning in to plant a few soft kisses on her face. Quinn whimpered and opened her eyes.

"Oh…Rachel…" Quinn's voice cracked, husky and disoriented with sleep, as her hands clutched anxiously at her flat stomach. "I had a bad dream…"

"What did you dream, angel?" Rachel murmured, curling herself closer to the passenger seat and keeping her hand on Quinn's face, gently stroking her pale skin.

"I was pregnant again, and…and I gave birth to a dead baby," Quinn sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut as if to look away from the nightmarish images in her head.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel whimpered, slipping both arms around her girlfriend's neck and hugging her as tight as she could over the center console. "C'mon, we're home now. Let's get inside and I'll make us some nice hot tea, okay?"

"Maybe I should just go home," Quinn sniffed, rubbing her red-rimmed eyes as Rachel released her.

"Oh…if that's what you want," Rachel nodded miserably, sitting back in her own seat and rubbing her temples, which had been pounding for most of the drive home. "I understand if you need to be alone right now."

"It's not that," Quinn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes again. "It's just that my head hurts, and I'm going to be really crappy company, and I don't want to make you take care of me any more today."

"But I _like_ taking care of you, Quinn," Rachel pouted, wrapping her arms around herself as the residual heat drained out of the car. "And anyway, I have a headache, too. It's a natural response to the stressful day we've had, and all the crying besides. Please just come inside, and we can take a nap and cuddle till we feel better, okay?"

"That sounds really good," Quinn nodded, with a small, sad smile. Then she shivered, zipped up her coat, and followed her girlfriend out of the car, making the short dash through the snow to the warmth of the Berry's house.

As soon as they got inside, Rachel went straight to the medicine cabinet and came back with a bottle of Tylenol, giving two to Quinn and then swallowing two herself. Quinn murmured her thanks, still shivering slightly, then doubled over with a weak fit of coughing, followed by a sneeze.

"Bless you!" Rachel exclaimed, watching her girlfriend sniffle and rub wearily at her nose. "Maybe you should have some Emergen-C instead of tea," the dark-haired girl frowned, reaching out to feel Quinn's face again with the back of her hand. "I think you're catching a cold."

"Whatever you want," Quinn shrugged, flopping down on the couch and pulling the afghan over herself. Rachel's frown deepened—Quinn _hated _the taste of Emergen-C, and the last time Rachel had forced it on her, she'd argued relentlessly that she wasn't sick and didn't need it_. It's just been a stressful day,_ the dark-haired girl reminded herself_. We're both exhausted. That's all_. She mixed up two glasses of Emergen-C with fresh orange juice, which masked the bad taste a bit and added even more vitamins to the mixture, and they both gulped it down without talking. Then Rachel crawled under the afghan and nuzzled up to Quinn, who was still shivering slightly, and they both fell promptly asleep.

Two hours later, Rachel awoke feeling rested and refreshed. Her headache was gone, and the vitamin boost combined with mid-afternoon nap had been exactly what her body needed to sort out the after-effects of the emotional visit with baby Beth. Quinn, on the other hand, was still out cold, her alabaster skin even paler than usual except for two bright pink spots on her cheeks. She really didn't look well. Rachel reached out to feel the sleeping girl's forehead, but at the gentle touch, Quinn gasped and jerked backwards, her eyes flying open in alarm.

"No, don't!" she rasped, her voice no more than a strangled croak. Then she winced, her hand going automatically to her throat. "Ow…"

"Shh, don't talk Quinn. You lost your voice. Poor baby, you sound just like me when _I_ had tonsillitis…lucky we still have all the special teas and herbal remedies from when I had it. I'll call Daddy and have him phone in a prescription for some antibiotics, too." Rachel kissed Quinn's forehead, feeling the feverish warmth it radiated, and sprang into action. The blonde girl didn't say a word, which worried Rachel even more than the fever or the raspy hoarseness in her voice. She'd never seen Quinn too sick to argue before.

When she returned with the steaming herbal tea and an ice pack, Rachel found her girlfriend curled up in a ball of misery on the couch, sniffling and coughing. Sweat-slicked tendrils of hair clung to her forehead, and the tip of her nose was starting to turn pink to match her feverish cheeks. "Rachel, I don't feel good," she croaked weakly, curling up with her head in her girlfriend's lap the moment Rachel sat down on the couch.

"Shh, I know baby…but you can't talk, okay? Your voice needs rest so it can heal." Rachel put the tea down on the table to cool a bit, and pressed the ice pack to Quinn's forehead. The blonde girl sighed and closed her eyes, obviously enjoying the cool sensation. "There now, you just need to rest. You'll feel better in a few days…and I'll be right here to cuddle you and take care of you until then." Quinn opened her eyes and shifted a bit, so she could roll onto her back and look up into Rachel's warm brown eyes, fixed lovingly on her own. She smiled weakly. Then she held up one hand, palm flat, and pantomimed writing on it with her other hand.

"Oh, yes, of course you can write down what you want to say…here, I'll get you my little dry-erase board." Rachel jumped up again and fetched the small 12"x18" dry-erase board she'd used to communicate when she'd been the one who couldn't talk, and brought it back to Quinn on the couch. The blonde girl immediately wrote: _I love you_.

"Aww, baby…I love you too." Rachel pressed the ice pack back to Quinn's forehead, and leaned down to kiss her warm cheek. "Poor little thing, I'm so sorry you're sick. What a lousy way to end such a hard day for you. _And_ a lousy way to start the holidays. We'll have to feed you chicken soup tonight instead of latkes." At Rachel's words, Quinn's eyes filled with tears. "What's wrong, sweetie? Does your throat hurt terribly? Here, drink some tea, it's my special blend," Rachel offered, picking up the tea and blowing gently on the surface so it wouldn't be too hot on Quinn's sore throat.

The sniffling girl pushed herself up slightly against the cushions and took a little sip of the tea; then sighed sadly, and pulled the whiteboard back, scribbling silently on it: _That's not why I'm crying. I had a special surprise for you and now it's ruined. I learned the Hanukkah blessings and I was going to sing with you tonight. Now I can't. I really wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry…_

"Oh, Quinn, you did? That's so sweet…I can't believe you did that for me. Please don't cry baby, your health is far more important to me than any holiday. And it's only the first night, anyway…you might get better in time to sing with us by the end." Rachel stroked Quinn's hair, murmuring loving words of reassurance; but Quinn just cried more, until her nose began to run and she curled up coughing and sniffling weakly in Rachel's lap. Then she rubbed her nose, and sneezed several times in rapid succession.

"God bless you," Rachel cooed, rubbing Quinn's back while reaching for the tissues from the coffee table with her free hand, and moving them within easy reach of the sick girl. "Here baby, blow your nose. And drink some tea, it really will make you feel better. Now _I'm_ going to get a surprise for _you_." Rachel wormed off the couch and scampered upstairs, returning with a large, festively wrapped package which she deposited in Quinn's lap.

"This was going to be your Hanukkah present for tonight," Rachel said brightly, curling up beside her girlfriend on the couch, "But it just got upgraded to a get-well-soon present. Don't worry, you'll still get other Hanukkah presents and Christmas presents too; but I think this one will really cheer you up right now." Quinn sat up and rubbed her red eyes, giving her girlfriend a weary, half-hearted smile as she began to unwrap her present. Even in the midst of her own misery, Quinn could see how much it was hurting Rachel that she couldn't be cheered up, and she felt horribly guilty for it. But when the wrapping paper fell away and the fluffy stuffed animal inside was revealed, she smiled for real, and threw her arms around her girlfriend's neck.

Rachel laughed, hugging Quinn back tightly. "You like him, right? I looked absolutely _everywhere_ for him." The blonde girl nodded, hugging the stuffed animal tightly against her side and writing on her board: _You found Appa! I can't believe it, I love him, thank you baby!_

Rachel beamed. Appa, the six-legged flying bison from Avatar, was Quinn's favorite friendly monster, and it had not escaped the dark-haired girl's attention that whenever the show came on, Quinn talked about how cuddly he looked and how awesome it would be to have him as a pet. She'd spent the better part of a month searching the internet for the best toy version she could find, which proved difficult when the obvious best choice—a plush, extremely fluffy 20" stuffed Appa with the exact right horns, wide otter's tail, six legs and arrow design on his head—turned out to cost $100 from the Nickelodeon store. With her trademark indomitable persistence, however, Rachel had eventually found the same one from the Japanese mirror site for only $20, which meant she could afford it without sacrificing all the other gift ideas she had for her girlfriend this year.

"You're welcome," Rachel beamed, kissing Quinn on the cheek. "I'm certain he'll make a superior cuddle-buddy while you're stuck in bed. Now for God's sake, drink your tea before it gets cold. You're on a very strict schedule of herbs, vitamins and antibiotics starting right now." Quinn sighed wearily, but picked up the tea and began to drink it, still hugging the fluffy monster to her side.

The blonde girl slept through the rest of the afternoon, waking to the sound of the garage door when Rachel's dads arrived home at dinnertime. Rachel had obviously called them both at work, because Michael had a bag from the drug store, holding a package of antibiotics, the same ones that had worked on Rachel when she'd had tonsillitis; plus a bag of sore throat drops, a jar of Vicks vapo-rub, and several boxes of Kleenex with extra-moisturizing lotion. Jacob came in toting a bag from Whole Foods, including a large container of fresh chicken soup, a half-gallon of organic orange juice, and several boxes of different flavored popsicles.

Quinn, still half-asleep, just smiled shyly at the vast assortment of get-better gifts the Berrys were showering down on her—in her own family, there was no fussing over sickness. Her father had always insisted that _Fabrays don't complain_, and anyone who got sick in their family was expected to just tough it out. Her mom would usually slip her some medicine when he wasn't looking, of course; but there were no kisses, no hot soup or tea, and certainly no cuddles or affection like she was getting now. If she hadn't already been through so much with the Berrys, it would have been a little overwhelming.

After they'd medicated Quinn within an inch of her life, the menorah was lit and the Hanukkah blessings were sung (Rachel kept her arm around her girlfriend the whole time, trying to make her feel better about not being able to sing along). Then came presents; from Jacob and Michael, a $25 iTunes gift card each for Quinn and Rachel (since they celebrated both Christmas _and_ Hanukkah, the family tradition was to save "big gifts" for under the tree, using Hanukkah as a slow and steady build-up period of excitement). Then Rachel gave Quinn her second present of the day, a matching set of soft, hand-knitted red gloves, a scarf and a hat to match her Cheerios uniform; and Quinn gave Rachel a חי _Maintenance_ t-shirt and a mix-CD of all her favorite holiday music.

Rachel's dads laughed uproariously at the t-shirt, and Michael patted the blonde girl on the back and declared that she was well on her way to being an honorary Jew, just like him. Quinn beamed, woozy from all the drugs coursing through her system, and hugged them all sleepily.

After the Hanukkah presents were unwrapped, they all retired to the couch to watch National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Quinn fell asleep roughly five minutes into the movie, cuddling her stuffed Appa with her head in Rachel's lap. She didn't even stir when Michael scooped her up and carried her upstairs to bed. Before joining her, Rachel made sure the humidifier was plugged in and filled with fresh water, and the Tylenol, Kleenex and a bottle of vitamin water were all within easy reach. Then she slipped in behind her feverish girlfriend and fell asleep cuddling her, along with the fluffy stuffed monster still curled in her arms.


	29. Diva School 101

Hey guys,

So I know that some people are going to be annoyed at the way Rachel comes off in this chap (spoilers for "Special Education"), and though I usually avoid caveats—the story should always be able to stand alone—I just want to say that I agree that the way Rachel's been portrayed on the show lately is stupid and totally not believable. She was always a bit arrogant (cause, hello, she's a fucking star and she knows it!), but on the show lately she's been like a parody of herself, she's so self-centered and narcissistic (like Sue Sylvester—a funny character, but not a real person). So, I'm trying to show an angle on this aspect of her that's a little more honest and real…hopefully you guys won't think I'm a hater by the end of the chap!

Cheers,

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 29**

**By JewWitch**

…

Rachel doted over Quinn while she was sick, and Quinn soaked up the affection like a parched little sea sponge; especially once the fever broke and she was able to stay awake for more that two hours at a time. When the weekend ended and Rachel was forced to go back to school alone, she started texting Quinn little love notes through the day, and brought home little gifts for her; flowers and Mad Libs and mango sorbet for her throat. After four days of the royal treatment, Quinn finally went back to school— still a little groggy and croaky, but too restless and bored to stay home another day. The same day, Mr. Schue announced their set list for Sectionals: Quinn and Sam singing _The Time of My Life,_ and Santana taking lead on _Valerie_ with Brittany and Mike Chang showing off their best dance moves.

"Are you kidding? Quinn and _Sam?_" Rachel exclaimed indignantly, her voice scathing. "They're going to look like Ken and Barbie!"

"Does someone need to have the team player talk again?" Kurt asked pointedly, as Quinn blushed and glanced over at Sam, trying to convey some sort of apology for her girlfriend's rudeness. He just raised his eyebrow awkwardly at her.

"Mr. Schuester, are you trying to throw this competition?" Rachel demanded furiously, not even acknowledging Kurt's question.

"We have a _lot_ of talent in this room, Rachel. If we're gonna go all the way this year, we have to let _all_ our stars shine," Mr. Schuester explained with a shrug.

"I'm all in favor of that, Mr. Schue—but not for Sectionals! That would be like, like—like taking the star quarterback out before the big game or something."

"Easy for you to say—you're always the star," Tina pointed out.

"_And_ you're a total hypocrite, Hobbit," Santana added, obviously offended by Rachel's dismissal of her contributions to glee as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared down imposingly at the shorter girl.

"You don't even know what that means," Rachel shot back, glaring.

"Sure I do. It means you're acting like a first-class jerk who's not gonna get any tonight," the Latina smirked, nodding to Quinn, who was staring at her girlfriend with a hurt expression of frank astonishment.

"Quinn knows this isn't about her," Rachel huffed impatiently. "I just don't think Sam has enough experience to adequately complement her vocal talents, and besides, she's just getting over tonsillitis and there isn't time to get her back to optimum condition."

"I think two weeks is plenty of time," Mr. Schuester disagreed. "And I seem to remember that _you_ got a solo at Regionals last year soon after having tonsillitis, Rachel."

"That was different. I'm a trained professional," Rachel explained patronizingly. A tense silence fell over the room at the little diva's words, all of them glaring furiously at her, momentarily unable to form words to express their anger at her blatant condescension. Quinn opened her mouth to break the silence; but at the last minute her expression changed, and she brought her hands up to her face to catch a soft sneeze instead.

"There, you see?" Rachel demanded to Mr. Schue, nodding towards her girlfriend, who was sniffling and pulling a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. "She's not fully recovered; she won't be ready to sing a solo in two weeks anyway."

"Bless you, Quinn," Kurt said politely, while giving the dark-haired girl a _very_ nasty look.

"Hello, I'm standing _right here_," Quinn snapped, waving her hand in front of her girlfriend's face. "Could you please stop discussing me in the third person?" Somehow, Rachel actually had the audacity to look taken aback.

"Quinn, I'm just looking out for the best interests of the team," the little diva huffed, crossing her arms and holding her back very straight.

"Um, no Rachel. This has absolutely nothing to do with the team. You're just going bat-shit crazy because I got a solo without you for once. Is it really _that_ difficult for you to just be proud of me?"

"I _am_ proud of you, Quinn! I'm just concerned that your voice isn't fully healed yet, and if you _were_ to sing a solo at Sectionals, I don't think Sam's a strong enough counterpoint to balance your vocal range, anyway. It's poor planning for a crucial competition, plain and simple."

"You're full of shit," Quinn fumed, shaking her head as she crammed her books back into her backpack and jumped up from her seat. "And by the way, Santana was right." With that, the blonde girl usurped her girlfriend's usual role of diva-in-chief, and stormed out of the choir room. Kurt stood up too, and with one more withering glare for the dark-haired starlet, followed after Quinn. Rachel was left red-faced and embarrassed, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team as they awkwardly began learning their parts for Valerie.

…..

"Hey stranger," Kurt said gently as he came up beside Quinn, sitting on the edge of the stage in the empty auditorium with her legs dangling off into the orchestra pit. "Is there room for one more diva on this stage?"

"Help yourself," Quinn shrugged listlessly, not turning to look at him. The fair-haired boy sat quietly by the cheerleader's side, and reached out to pat her leg.

"She'll be begging for your forgiveness by tonight," he said confidently, giving her knee a soft squeeze.

"That was _humiliating_," Quinn seethed, finally turning to look at him with her eyes full of tears. "I felt like I'd just been eliminated on American Idol! And I didn't even know I was competing!"

"I know, hon. Your girl has her crazy moments, no doubt about that. But the truth is…I do understand why she snaps sometimes. Someone like you, Quinn, you can't know what it's like to only be good at one thing. You can do anything you want when you get out of here. But for Rachel—and me, for that matter—there's really only one path. Does her not getting a solo for Sectionals mean she won't make it to Broadway? Of course not. But I get why it made her crazy alarm go off."

"You're _not_ only good at one thing, Kurt," Quinn huffed, wiping her eyes on a fresh tissue as she turned to look at him. "You're the best dressed person in Lima, and you know more about health and natural nutrition that anyone else I know. You could be a fashion designer, or a holistic nutritionist, or one of those fancy personal chefs for the stars."

"Thank you, Quinn, that's very kind," Kurt smiled, reaching out to tug affectionately on the end of her ponytail.

"And Rachel's good at lots of things, too," the cheerleader went on, ticking off her points on her fingers. "She's on honor roll in every class. I mean, I know it doesn't really matter, because she doesn't _want_ to do anything else with her life; but it's not like she _couldn't_." Quinn sighed and turned to face Kurt's clear blue gaze, a small, sad smile playing across her lips. "I guess that's not the point, though, is it?"

"No, not really," Kurt agreed. "The part of her that freaked just now was the part that's been keeping her eyes on the prize since she won her first toddler pageant. The part that sees her name in lights on Broadway, and nothing else. Plus, um…there may have been a wee bit of a crazy jealous girlfriend moment in there, too. I don't think she likes sharing you, vocally or otherwise."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed with a sigh. "Kurt, do you think…do you think she'll leave me for Broadway some day?"

"Why, are you saying you wouldn't move to New York or LA for her when the time comes?"

"No, of course I would," Quinn frowned. "Those places are awesome and exciting, and have good sushi and indie movie houses, and everything. I mean, I don't have the slightest _idea_ what I want to do with _my_ life; but I know I don't want to stay in this hick town. I'd follow Rachel anywhere she wanted to go."

"Well then, I don't see why she would ever have to choose between you and her dream," Kurt shrugged, and Quinn smiled, a relaxed, easy smile full of relief, and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, and then patted her knee reassuringly when she broke away coughing into her elbow.

"Ughh…sorry," she sighed, pulling out a fresh tissue to blow her nose again. "Rachel was right that I'm not back to 100% yet, voice-wise. I would've brought it up myself, if she hadn't done it first so obnoxiously. Honestly, it might not be such a great idea for glee club to count on me right now."

"Oh, piffle. Pack a thermos of hot water with lemon every day for a week, and get a humidifier for your bedroom. You'll be spectacular, darling." He winked, and Quinn giggled.

"I already _have_ a humidifier in my bedroom," she admitted wistfully. "Rachel got it for me four days ago. And she's been plying me with, like, five different kinds of therapeutic herbal tea a day."

"Sounds like she plans on keeping you around a while longer," Kurt winked. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to make her grovel a little before you forgive her." Quinn smiled and kissed his cheek, and the two got up and headed back to the choir room, their linked hands swinging between them as they walked comfortably down the hall together.

When they returned to rehearsal, Quinn held her head high and acted like nothing had happened, going over to Brittany and Tina to start learning her part for Valerie from them. Her voice _did_ crack a few times on the high notes, and though she tried to keep it in, she still coughed a bit through the rest of the rehearsal. Rachel didn't say anything; but she did disappear for a few minutes after Quinn started to cough, coming back with a steaming cup of tea and placing it in front of her on the piano without comment.

"Thanks," Quinn murmured, picking up the peace offering and sipping it gratefully. Rachel still didn't say a word, but just smiled sheepishly and gave her a little wink.

When they were dismissed, both girls took their time over gathering their books, so they ended up being the last two people in the choir room. When she was quite sure everyone else was gone, Rachel approached Quinn and asked seriously, "Is it too soon to apologize for my narcissistic and thoughtless behavior, and grovel as necessary for your forgiveness?"

"Not too soon," Quinn shook her head, biting her lip to keep a straight face, "But maybe not the best venue for such declarations. I think you should take me somewhere that serves hot chocolate before we get to the groveling."

"Quinn, you know that hot chocolate isn't the best thing for your throat right now," Rachel frowned, her eyebrows knitting together as her expression changed swiftly from groveling girlfriend to caretaking girlfriend. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go of course, but I strongly recommend that you order a non-dairy hot beverage instead, as the healing properties of such would be of great benefit to your conditioning for Sectionals."

"But right now is when all the special holiday flavors are out," Quinn pouted, sticking out her lower lip and batting her eyelashes, making herself look as cute and kittenish as possible to capitalize on Rachel's guilty conscience. "You know all I want is a gingerbread hot chocolate with whipped cream, and you know in another two weeks I won't be able to get it." Quinn pouted. Rachel sighed.

"Well…I suppose _one_ hot cocoa won't kill you," the dark-haired girl agreed grudgingly, an unwilling smile spreading across her face when Quinn beamed at her and reached for her hand.

….

When they were both seated over their drinks at the local Starbucks (the coveted gingerbread hot chocolate with whipped cream for Quinn, and a soy chai latte for Rachel), Quinn remembered Kurt's parting advice about not letting Rachel off _too _easy. "Okay, you can commence with the groveling now," she said, trying to keep her face expressionless as she licked a dab of whipped cream off her drink. Rachel sighed and stared down into her cup, her expression so serious and tortured that Quinn almost felt guilty for drawing it out any more. Almost.

"You know me better than anyone else in the world, Quinn. You know what scares me and what inspires me, you know how to calm me down when I'm having a diva tantrum, and you know how protective I am of the people I love. You've seen me at my best, and you've most _definitely_ seen me at my worst. So I hope that, for all the awful things I said in glee today, you also know that none of it was meant as an insult to you or your talent. You sing like an angel, baby. And you know I love seeing you on stage."

"Yeah, I know…thank you," Quinn smiled a little sadly, swirling the whipped cream around the top of her hot cocoa with the little stir stick. "But you were really mean today, Rach—like, Sue Sylvester mean. And honestly? I think you were pretty much right about everything you said, but…it was just the _way_ you said it that hurt. It felt like you were throwing me overboard, like nothing else besides getting the solo even registered in your brain."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Rachel said sadly, reaching out to squeeze Quinn's hands across the table. "I'd never throw you overboard. If the _USS Glee_ was going down and there was only one spot left on the lifeboat, I'd give it to you, even if it meant I had to go down with the ship."

"That's very chivalrous," Quinn smiled softly, squeezing Rachel's hands back and leaning across the table to give her a quick kiss. A middle-aged man in a business suit stopped in his tracks a few feet in front of them, staring with undisguised contempt at their small public display of affection. "Got a problem with me kissing my girlfriend?" Quinn growled at him, meeting his stare with her own sharp hazel gaze. He blanched, clearly not expecting her challenge, and walked off hurriedly. "I thought not," Quinn huffed after him.

"My hero," Rachel trilled in a breathy, Scarlet O'Hara sort of voice, and they both giggled; then Quinn's laughter caught in her chest and turned back into the nagging cough that hadn't quite left her system yet. "Aw, poor baby," Rachel cooed, wincing at the slight rattling sound in Quinn's chest when she coughed. "Are you keeping up with the vitamin and tea schedule I drew up for you?"

"Yes dear," Quinn said sarcastically, but with a smile on her face. "But you know, you weren't wrong about my voice not being quite back to full strength. I would've told Mr. Schue so, too, if you hadn't been such an assface about it. Maybe I really _shouldn't_ take the solo, Rach. Even at my best, I know I'm not going to be anywhere near as good without you. If we don't win Sectionals, glee will be over for good…I don't want that to happen because of me."

"That's not going to happen, Quinn. You'll be wonderful—and I'll help with your vocal conditioning, I promise. There are a few simple exercises, and things we can do…all the same things we did last year when _I _needed to get back into top form for Regionals. I'm sorry I undermined your confidence, baby—you know I believe in you, completely and totally."

"Mmm, yeah…I think we can officially call an end to the groveling portion of the day," Quinn smirked, remembering some of the more enjoyable aspects of Rachel's vocal conditioning from last year, when she'd been the one helping the dark-haired starlet get over her tonsillitis. "I'd much rather move on to some of those vocal conditioning activities…I seem to remember some of them taking place in a nice hot shower?"

"Oh yes, those are the most important ones," Rachel agreed, giving Quinn a dazzling, full-on Rachel Berry gold star smile for the first time all day. Quinn returned the smile with interest, abandoning her hot chocolate without a second thought as she stood and offered Rachel her hand, and they hurried out of Starbucks to Quinn's car with identical shy grins spread across their faces.


	30. Vocal Conditioning

Okay, so it seems like a lot of people felt that Rachel got a raw deal in the last chapter—I'm sorry if it seemed too harsh! All I can say is that this is an AU world (despite the integration of plot points and events from the show when it suits me), and I just want to remind everyone that in this world, Rachel is not getting bullied anymore like she is on the show. Rachel & Quinn have become the new glee power couple, so in general, she gets treated much better by her fellow gleeks and the rest of the school. Sure, she still takes things too far sometimes, and blow-outs are bound to happen occasionally; but in the end I'd never let any real harm befall either of our lovely heroines.

That said, I figured y'all might appreciate a little positive reinforcement right now…so I'm posting this little stand-alone scene that was going to be part of the next chapter. I hope it will lift your spirits! **Be advised, this one is rated M.** Oh yes. Enjoy!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 30**

**By JewWitch**

…

Rachel turned the shower up to a nice hot blast before ducking into the cabinet under the sink, rooting around momentarily, and coming back with a little ceramic ring and a bottle of eucalyptus oil. She poured a bit of the oil into the little holder, and then hung it over the showerhead, where it immediately began to infuse the warm steam with a penetrating, minty sort of vapor. Then she turned and smiled at Quinn, who had already stripped off her clothes and stood watching the dark-haired girl with a dreamy, adoring expression in her warm hazel eyes.

"Okay, hop in," Rachel squeaked, her cheeks already growing pink from the combined effects of the heady steam and naked Quinn.

"Aren't you coming in with me?" Quinn asked, her smile turning mischievous as she drew Rachel against her skin.

"Uhh…if you want me to," Rachel nodded, adorably flustered as Quinn began undressing her.

"Oh, I want you to," the blonde girl nodded seriously, pressing a soft kiss to Rachel's pulse point after pulling her sweater over her head.

"Quinn, this isn't naked sexy time. This is vocal conditioning."

"I think we can do both simultaneously," Quinn murmured, planting another light kiss on Rachel's throat as her hands slipped under the hem of her girlfriend's skirt and pushed it down over her lips, landing in a puddle on the floor. Rachel let out a soft moan of longing, her body leaning automatically into Quinn's for more contact.

"Uhh, no, Quinn, stop—this is serious. You need to concentrate on, um…on your, um…breathing."

"I'm pretty sure I can manage to breathe and make you come at the same time," Quinn murmured, her hands now caressing Rachel's back and undoing the clasp of her bra, then slipping it off. "C'mon baby, don't you want to? We haven't had naked sexy time in almost a week…"

"Because you were sick, and you needed your rest," Rachel reminded her, letting her head fall back as Quinn's lips continued their assault on her throat.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed absently, her fingers now slipping under Rachel's underwear and pushing them down off her hips, quickly falling to the floor with her skirt. "And you took very, very good care of me…and now I feel better." With one final nip at Rachel's throat, Quinn straightened up, smiling wickedly as she raked her nails up her girlfriend's smooth, bare back. "Now I want to take care of _you_ for a while…don't you want me to?"

"I, uh…" Rachel felt her face heating up as Quinn released her, and made a show of stepping into the shower with her head held back, closing her eyes as the water cascaded down over her body like a waterfall. It was only moments before Rachel followed her into the shower, closing the sliding door behind her to keep in as much of the steam as possible.

"Make sure to breathe deeply, okay?" Rachel said seriously, as Quinn's wet hands snaked around her hips and gently turned her around, so her back was pressed to Quinn's front.

"Breathing deep. Check. Worshipping your body…check." Rachel sighed languidly as her senses were drawn into a world of pure pleasure; Quinn's arms slipped around her, encouraging her to lean back into her girlfriend's strong frame, as the hot water poured down around them, loosening their muscles and washing all of her anxieties and troubles away. Quinn's fingers were exploring, teasing, never staying in one spot for too long as she traced the outlines of Rachel's collarbone, her breasts, her perfect little bellybutton.

"Ohhhh…Quinn…can you just keep doing that forever?" Rachel sighed, letting her head drop back against the blonde girl's shoulder as all her muscles went limp. She could feel the vibrations of Quinn's giggles against her skin.

"Are you sure babe? Just this, forever? I kind of had a few more specific destinations in mind…" As she spoke, the blonde girl slipped one hand down between Rachel's legs, drawing teasing circles around her clit, while the other hand slid up to palm a pert breast, giving it a light squeeze.

"Oh! Fuck! Yes, oh yes baby keep going…please please keep going…" Rachel whimpered, her loose muscles coming back to life as if jolted with live electricity, her whole body squirming and shifting against Quinn's warm, wet, naked body. Her hands went over Quinn's, pressing them harder into her skin.

"Show me, Rach. Show me how you want me to touch you," Quinn purred, her breath warm against Rachel's ear. The dark-haired girl could feel her girlfriend's pounding heartbeat against her back, along with the deep, even breaths Quinn was taking while holding her so close.

"Just don't let me fall," Rachel murmured, putting one foot up on the edge of the tub for leverage as she spread her legs apart, and reaching up with her right hand to hold Quinn by the back of her neck. Her other hand stayed over Quinn's, between her legs.

"I won't let you fall, baby. I'm right here," Quinn cooed, releasing Rachel's breast to wrap one arm around her ribcage, holding her firmly in place. Their combined left hands slipped lower, under Rachel's guidance, until they both had one finger inside her, and Quinn's palm was fully pressed against Rachel's mound, with Rachel's hand on top, increasing the pressure. Rachel whimpered and moaned in pleasure, and Quinn had to work a little harder to hold her steady as their hips began to rock together, establishing a slow, unhurried rhythm.

"I can feel how wet you are even through the water," Quinn murmured, wiggling her finger playfully against Rachel's insides. "You're wetter than the shower…God, you feel so good baby…"

"_You_ make me wet," Rachel growled, arching back against Quinn's slick, strong body as she tried to push her hips harder into their combined hands. "You make me feel so good, Quinn…ahhh, fuck, _yessss_…" As Rachel's head fell back against Quinn's shoulder, Quinn bent forward and began nibbling lightly on her exposed throat. The little diva growled appreciatively.

"You can bite me a little harder," Rachel panted, her fingers tightening in Quinn's wet hair.

"I don't wanna hurt you…"

"You won't. Please Quinn, I want to feel your teeth…just a little harder…" Rachel begged, gasping in exquisite pleasure as Quinn's mouth latched back onto her pulse point, not hard enough to really hurt, but definitely hard enough to leave a mark. "Yes yes _yes_, fuck, don't stop baby," Rachel keened, rocking her hips harder and pushing down on Quinn's hand, curling their fingers together inside her until she felt herself come unhinged, her orgasm flooding through her whole body, down to the tips of her toes. Quinn held her up as the shockwaves ran through her, again and again, until they were both limp and spent.

"I'm definitely…taking…deep…breaths," Quinn panted, and Rachel smiled lazily, too dazed and blissful to even laugh out loud.

"That was the best vocal conditioning _ever_."


	31. Winter Wonderland

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year, everyone! I realized as I was writing this that I'm still not 100% sure whether Christmas dinner happens on Christmas _eve_ or Christmas _day_; so if I got it wrong, oh well. I'll just play my Jew card! Rachel and Puck will totally back me up ;)

Enjoy the update!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 31**

**By JewWitch**

…

Thanks to Rachel's intensive vocal conditioning (most of which did _not _rely on shower sex for its effectiveness), Quinn's voice was restored to its usual smoky goodness within a few days, giving them ample time to perfect their Sectionals performance numbers. And, after winning a competition without having a solo, Rachel had to admit that the rest of the team did have plenty of talent, too. (Privately, she still felt there was really no question of who lead the pack; but she kept this to herself, hoping that some smiles and cooperation would smooth things over and make Mr. Schue less likely to punish her like this again in future). Getting to smack Santana's ass on stage was just a bonus.

Once Sectionals was past, school was just a blur of finals, and before they knew it, Rachel & Quinn found themselves back in the Berrys' attic unearthing the Christmas decorations. Quinn had a moment of guilt over her excitement about Christmas, given how little she'd been able to celebrate when Hannukah had come and gone; but Rachel reassured her that A) God doesn't get mad at you for getting sick on a holiday, and B) Hannukah is actually one of the most minor festivals on the entire Jewish calendar, and the only reason it gets so hyped up in America is because it just happens to fall in close proximity to Christmas. Then she invited Quinn to come to her cousins' Passover Seder in April, which was how Rachel's dads accidentally stumbled on the two of them making out on top of a pile of Christmas tinsel an hour later.

Eventually, both the Berry and Fabray houses were thoroughly Christmasized, and Judy announced over hot chocolate with Quinn and Rachel that she'd like to host Christmas dinner for all of them this year, as a small token of apology for her absence from Quinn's life the previous Christmas. Quinn cried (tears of joy, she assured them) and said it was the best Christmas present she could imagine. Rachel asked if it was okay to bring her Poppy, even though he was kind of a jerk. Judy laughed and patted her shoulder, joking that Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a big dysfunctional family dinner.

On the day of Christmas Eve, Rachel woke to find a sizeable snowstorm—the first of the season—billowing outside her window. Her first thought was_, thank God we already did the grocery shopping_; and her second thought was, _I'd better get over to Quinn's while I still can_. Her instinct was confirmed when she got a text from her girlfriend that just said _Get your butt over here!_ In her anxiety about the storm and getting over to Quinn's in time to help with the dinner preparations, the dark-haired girl skipped an entire section of her usual morning hygiene routine, showing up on the Fabrays' doorstep an hour later with her hair in a messy bun, and dressed in a pair of sweats and a _Wicked_ t-shirt.

"Aww, you're adorable when you're a mess," Quinn cooed affectionately, pulling her girlfriend into the house and playing with a loose strand of her hair as she kissed her hello.

"I have to disagree with your assessment," Rachel huffed, unzipping her coat and brushing snow off her hat before she noticed that Quinn was putting _her_ coat _on_. "Um…where exactly are you going?"

"Duh! It's the first snowstorm of the year! We're going out to frolic in a winter wonderland." Quinn was beaming as she made this pronouncement, already wiggling into her snowpants with a little jig in her step.

"Are you insane? That is _not_ winter wonderland, Quinn, it's a deathtrap." Rachel pointed out the window at the swirling snowflakes. "I did _not_ risk life and limb getting over here so we could frolic in a deathtrap. I came to help with Christmas dinner. Plus, you shouldn't be exposing yourself to the elements when you've just gotten over tonsillitis."

"Gee grandma, you're right. Let's just stay home and drink prune juice. Then we can watch a nice movie about a snowstorm from the comfort of our old-lady recliners." Quinn's sarcasm was undermined by the giddy smirk still plastered to her face as she laced up her boots. Rachel scowled and stomped her foot.

"Quinn Cordelia Fabray, you are being completely unreasonable. What will your mother think if we run off to play in the snow and leave her all alone to prepare an entire Christmas dinner by herself?"

"She'll think we're two teenagers enjoying the best part of Christmas vacation, and she'll be thrilled." Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, kissing the stubborn pout off her face. "C'mon baby, you really think I'd just bail on my mom on Christmas? She's fine with us spending the morning out, then coming back to help her in a couple of hours. We've got plenty of time. And I haven't been sledding in two whole years, because last winter I was pregnant and everything fun was dangerous!" Quinn actually bounced with excitement at this point, causing Rachel to giggle despite her annoyance.

"I didn't realize snow-related activities were so important to you," the dark-haired girl admitted grudgingly.

"Well, see, isn't it nice to know that even after a year together, we can still surprise each other?" Quinn kissed the end of Rachel's nose. Rachel grinned and sighed in a _what-am-I-gonna-do-with-you_ sort of way.

"That _is_ nice," she agreed. "And I suppose that if it will make you happy, and your mom says it's all right…" Quinn squealed and ran to get the sleds, not even letting Rachel finish her sentence. "I'm setting my cell phone timer for 90 minutes!" Rachel yelled after her.

By the time they reached the sledding hills at Hamilton Park, Rachel had to admit that she wasn't the least bit cold—walking in the snow really was a good cardio workout, and it made her feel better about skipping her usual hour on the elliptical in her morning rush. But when Quinn led her to the top of the steepest, scariest looking hill, Rachel's warm feelings about the snow came to an abrupt halt.

"I don't know about this, Quinn. I really don't want to spend Christmas hooked up to a respirator in a trauma center somewhere."

"Oh, c'mon scardey cat, you'll be perfectly safe. I've been sledding here since I was five, and so far, no traumatic injuries. Unless you count the trauma of my sister's friends laughing at me when I wet my pants because I thought a snowsuit was the same as a spacesuit." Rachel laughed, then bit her lip anxiously.

"Quinn, seriously. I'm not the adrenalin-seeking type; you know this. I'd much rather build a nice snowman and call it a day. You go, and I'll watch, okay?"

"Noooo," Quinn whined, employing the classic Fabray pout that her sister had taught her when they were little. "I want to go with _you_. Please Rach, I swear I won't let anything happen to you. We can go in one sled, okay? I'll _totally_ protect you." Rachel worried her lip, glancing from Quinn to the hill and back again. Then with a sigh of defeat, she climbed into the sled.

"One ride," she said sternly. "After that, you're on your own."

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Quinn squealed, hopping into the sled behind her girlfriend and wrapping both arms firmly around her waist.

"Wait, wait, one more thing," Rachel gulped dramatically, leaning back against Quinn as the blonde girl lined up the nose of the sled with the edge of the hill.

"Hmm?"

"You've got that whole, snowsuit/spacesuit distinction down now, right?" Quinn just smirked, and launched them down the hill. Rachel's shriek could be heard from one end of the park to the other.

Much to Quinn's delight, Rachel demanded another ride as soon as they reached the bottom of the hill; and by the time they left, the shorter girl had become a bona-fide sledding enthusiast (her words). They spent the rest of the day helping Judy with Christmas dinner, singing Christmas songs and drinking spiced cider. Quinn even made a special, vegan winter squash risotto for Rachel, since she obviously wouldn't be having any Christmas ham. Rachel had insisted that this wasn't necessary, since there were plenty of side dishes, but Quinn had insisted even more that Christmas had nothing to do with necessity.

They were still bickering playfully when Rachel's dads arrived with her Poppy; the same one who'd been so rude to Quinn at last year's dinner (though Michael had assured both girls that his father would be on his best behavior this year). None of the extended Fabray family deigned to attend, so strong was their collective disapproval of the various scandals that Judy and her daughter had amassed between them in the last year (teen pregnancy and lesbianism apparently took a back seat to divorce, the worst of all possible sins; no matter that Russell had been an abusive drunk).

Quinn obviously felt guilty for her mother's ostracism from the rest of the family, and tried to show her through her actions how grateful she was that they were together for Christmas. Rachel noticed all the little things Quinn did, like setting the table with the good china and vacuuming the living room without being asked; and it sent her into one of her idyllic future fantasies. She smiled goofily, imagining her blonde angel doing all the same things in _their_ house (or more likely, apartment), when they were the ones getting ready to host their families for Christmas dinner. She snuck up on the cheerleader while she was straightening up the living room, and playfully pulled her to stand under the mistletoe.

"Oops, look at that," Rachel trilled, batting her long eyelashes innocently as she glanced pointedly at the little bundle of green leaves and red berries suspended in the doorway above them.

"Now who left that there?" Quinn wondered sarcastically, looping her arms around her girlfriend's waist and pulling her directly under the little sprig.

"Someone very wise," Rachel said seriously, and Quinn laughed, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend thoroughly. It wasn't a _let's-have-a-quickie-before-dinner_ kiss; it was a slow, soft, deep-burn kiss, the kind that promised forever and absolutely refused to be rushed.

"Merry Christmas, my little gold star," the blonde girl murmured when she broke away, tugging affectionately on a lock of dark hair.

"Merry Christmas, sunshine," Rachel replied, giving Quinn her glowing, bottomless smile. Then they laced their fingers together, and went to sit down to Christmas dinner with their families.


	32. The Gold Star Martini

Hey guys! Heads' up, this chap has a mild violence/angst warning. Emphasize the lite- I don't think it'll give you nightmares or anything ;)

Enjoy!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 32**

**By JewWitch**

…

Winter break flew by in a blur of snowball fights and some intensive, all-day Cheerios practices for Quinn, while Rachel grudgingly used her girlfriend-free hours planning out the glee club's decisive road to victory over the Warblers and Vocal Adrenalin at Regionals. For all of Rachel's complaints and threats to have Sue Sylvester dispatched in the night by pirate ninja assassins, the vacation week passed pretty quickly, and before they knew it, the diva and the Cheerio found themselves arriving at Puck's New Year's Eve party. Quinn happily threw her keys into the fishbowl by the door, where they'd be guarded by John Conroy, the sober Christian football player who'd volunteered himself as designated driver for the evening. Given Quinn's last experience getting drunk at Puck's house, she had no plans to have more than one drink; but it didn't hurt to play along for safety's sake. Rachel, on the other hand, was more than ready to take a walk on the wild side tonight. She was back in her Britney Spears outfit, flushing pleasurably when the room erupted in enthusiastic hoots and hollers as her coat came off.

"Remember boys, we look with our eyes, not our hands," Quinn said with a smirk, only half-joking as she curled one arm possessively around Rachel's waist.

"Baby mama, you can tie me to the _chair _if I get to watch," Puck leered, winking, well, puckishly at them.

"In your dreams," Quinn replied as always, but she was grinning proudly, her shoulders relaxed and her body at ease as she pulled Rachel along to the kitchen. They found Brittany and Santana lining up a tray full of Dixie cups, each half-filled with jiggling red and blue glop.

"Ooh! Jello shots!" The little diva squealed, bouncing with excitement as she ran to inspect the trays closer. "I've always wanted to try…" Then her face fell comically. "Oh. Wait. Jello isn't vegan." She pouted as Brittany and Santana toasted each other and slurped down their shots.

"Aw, come on Berry. Just live a little," Santana chuckled, tossing her empty cup aside and grabbing another. "That outfit is practically _begging _for a Jello shot. Or five. If it knew you were a little vegan goodie-two-shoes, it never would've followed you home from the store."

"Rachel's clothes can walk on their own?" Brittany asked, sounding mildly impressed but also mildly disinterested as she too reached for another shot.

"Oh yeah, of course they can Brit. All _my_ clothes do that," Quinn teased, biting back a giggle. "Don't _your_ clothes walk out of the closet every morning? How else do you get dressed?" Brittany's blue eyes went wide with unease, and Santana smacked Quinn in the shoulder. Hard. "Ow! Chill out, Lopez!"

"_You_ chill out, captain jerkface. Don't make fun of my girl."

"I wasn't"—Quinn started to protest, but there was no point arguing with Santana over Brittany. "Sorry Brit, I was just kidding. Our clothes don't really walk."

"Oh, that's too bad," Brittany shrugged, already back to disinterest as she grabbed a fresh Jello shot. "It would've made getting dressed a lot more exciting."

"Um…yeah," Quinn agreed lamely, biting back another giggle so Santana wouldn't smack her again. Rachel was still peering dubiously into the tray of Dixie cups.

"C'mon Rachel, they taste great," Brittany promised, offering the dark-haired girl a cup. "You won't even know you're getting wasted!"

"I'm sure the taste is lovely, Brittany, but I just don't think I could get past that jiggly consistency, and knowing that it's made from ground-up horse hooves." Rachel wrinkled her nose in distaste. Brittany's face fell comically.

"I'm drinking _horse hooves?"_ She asked, aghast. Santana hit Rachel in the arm.

An hour later, the Jello shots were long gone, and Rachel was happily mixing up pitchers of her new invention, the "Gold Star Martini." Though she didn't actually know what was _in _a martini, per se, she had found a bottle of Goldschlager on the liquor table and immediately appropriated it, mixing in a little of whatever else she could find and getting more and more excited about it the more she chugged down. Quinn took a cup out of politeness, but filled it halfway with club soda when Rachel wasn't looking. And by the time she'd finished her half-soda drink, Rachel had had three.

"Who wants another gold star martini?" Rachel crowed happily, skipping around the living room with her pitcher in hand, and sloshing a good portion of it onto the carpet. "Whoops, I think I marinated your floor, Noah. Perhaps we should apply a stain remover before it sets. Does clear liquor leave a stain? My grandma once threw a fit when Cousin Leon spilled his gin and tonic on the new carpet, but it might have been because of the tonic, which is also clear but I think it has sugar in it. Does Goldschlager have sugar? I hope not, because I've been drinking quite a lot of it! Quinn, will you still love me if I get fat from drinking Goldschlager?" Rachel poured the last of her pitcher into the nearest empty cup, which happened to be held by Kurt; then she giggled drunkenly and ruffled his hair like he was five years old. "Goldschlager!"

"Rachel Berry, _you_ are _drunk_," Kurt said gravely, absently patting his hair down as he peered into his newly refilled cup.

"Yes! I am!" the little starlet agreed proudly. "It's rather marvelous, I have to say. Do you like my invention, Kurt? I never knew there was alcohol with gold in it before." Kurt sniffed his cup experimentally, then took a sip.

"Gah! It tastes like the Barbie dream car crashed into the MTV beach house. On ice." Kurt wrinkled his nose, and bravely gulped down the rest of his drink. Rachel laughed delightedly and threw her arms around Quinn's neck, accidentally whacking the blonde girl in the back of the head with the empty pitcher.

"Ow! Take it easy, Rach, that's my head," Quinn pouted, rubbing the sore spot with one hand while the other wrapped around Rachel's waist, half holding her up.

"Aww, did I bonk your little head, baby? I'm sorry. It was most assuredly an accident, because as you know I am drunk and I am fairly certain my basic motor skills have been egregiously impaired. You're not hurt, are you? How many fingers am I holding up?" Rachel held up her fist, but forgot to raise any fingers.

"I'm fine, babe," Quinn giggled, charmed despite herself by her girlfriend's adorable drunken babbling. "I hope you're having a good time, because you're gonna be sooooo hung over tomorrow." She pulled the shorter girl's hips firmly against her own, and kissed her cinnamon-flavored lips.

"I'm having a _great_ time!" Rachel agreed enthusiastically, bouncing up and down in Quinn's arms. "It's New Year's Eve and I am having a quintessential teenage experience! Tomorrow I will have _another_ quintessential teenage experience in the form of a hangover! I feel so wholesomely American right now, don't you guys?"

"I love drunk Rachel," Brittany declared out of nowhere. "She's way more fun than regular Rachel."

At a few minutes before midnight, someone turned on the TV so they could see the ball drop over Times Square. They did the traditional ten-second countdown, and everyone screamed and threw confetti; then they all spent the first hours of the new year playing karaoke revolution on Puck's Wii. By 2am, half the partygoers had either snuck off to make out or else fallen asleep on the couch, a significant feat considering the volume of Rachel's Britney Spears renditions. When she passed off the mic to Artie for his interpretation of "American Woman," however, she went back to her self-appointed position as party bartender and announced that they were all out of Goldschlager.

"I think there's more in the garage," Puck said with a nod towards the back of the house.

"Righto. I have a mission. If I'm not back in ten minutes, send out a search party!" Rachel cried, stumbling and giggling madly as she careened toward the back of the house. Santana raised an eyebrow at Quinn.

"Did she just say _righto?" _The Latina snorted, smirking a little but trying to hide it."I think drunk Rachel might be a little British."

…

It was, in fact, a feat of nature that the little brunette managed to get down the stairs and into the garage without breaking her neck; but even drunk out of her mind, she still had goals, and Rachel Berry _always_ met her goals. Right now, her goal was to find more Goldschlager. She was bent over a heavy box full of assorted liquor bottles when a large, beefy hand grabbed her ass and squeezed.

"Hey!" Rachel squealed, standing up and jumping back at the same time, so she dropped the bottle she was holding and had to grab her assailant for support. "Finn," she whined when she realized who she was leaning against, "You made me drop the alcohol. When did you turn into a maple tree?" Giggling, she patted his chest absentmindedly, turning back to her search for Goldschlager.

"What? Oh, uh, yeah," Finn nodded in confusion, almost as drunk as Rachel, and with only one thing on his mind as he stared at her. "Rach. Rachel. I wanted to tell you…you look really hot tonight." The starlet in question didn't respond, already busy looking through the bottles again with her ass in the air. Finn grabbed it again, squeezing her exposed flesh with both hands.

"Finn! Stop it!" Rachel squeaked indignantly, jumping back and grabbing the grimy garage sink for support. "This is a hands-free zone, mister. You behave yourself, or I'll tell Quinn and she'll have you castrated." The drunk girl giggled, clearly pleased with herself; but Finn snarled and grabbed her by the upper arms, shaking her hard.

"Goddamit, Rachel! I'm trying to tell you something important here! I know I blew my chance with you last year, but it's not too late! You can't tell me you didn't wear this outfit to get my attention, because I know you did. It worked, okay? You're driving me crazy. You can't just ignore me now!"

"Ow! Finn, you're hurting me!" Rachel struggled against the tall football player's grip, but all she managed to do was dig her back against the corner of the sink. "Let go of me!"

"How am I supposed to do that, Rachel? When you won't even listen? Goddamit!" Finn shook her harder, and she started to panic.

"Let me go! Let me _go!_ Somebody help!" Rachel shrieked, knowing even through her alcohol-induced haze that there was no way she'd be heard all the way from the garage over the din of the party.

"Wait, no, just listen!" Finn demanded drunkenly, his grip on her arms tightening until her fingers started to tingle from lack of blood flow. Rachel glared at him, a snarl ripping from her throat.

"Let. Me. Go!" She shrieked, kneeing him in the groin as hard as she could. Finn made a horrible squawking noise and dropped her, doubling over in pain. Rachel twisted to get away from him, stepped on the end of a shovel, and felt a dull crack when the rusty handle flew up and connected with her temple. Then all she saw was black.

…..

In the living room, Quinn was growing impatient. She knew that Rachel was having fun, but she also knew that the little diva had never been anywhere _near_ this drunk before; and she wouldn't put it past her girlfriend to just forget her mission and fall asleep in the garage. Maybe it was time to drag her party girl home. Yawning and rubbing her eyes, Quinn abandoned her friends on the comfortable couch and stumbled down the hall after Rachel.

She opened the door to the garage just in time to see her girlfriend knee her ex-boyfriend in the nuts, then get hit in the head with the rusty shovel handle and keel over.

"Rachel!" Quinn shrieked, racing to where her girlfriend lay motionless on the dirty cement floor, a small pool of blood collecting under her head.

"Oh my God," Finn moaned when he saw the blood. "Quinn, it was an accident"—

"Get out of here," Quinn snarled at him, without taking her eyes off Rachel.

"Quinn, I didn't—it wasn't—it was an accident!" Finn tried to say again, but his voice died in his throat when Quinn turned to look at him, her hazel eyes icy with a fury the tall football player had never seen in her before.

"Get. Out. Of. Here," She growled, her voice so low and gravelly she barely sounded like herself. Finn scrambled backwards, then glared at her and kicked a trashcan as he stalked off. Quinn barely noticed his exit, her attention already back on her unconscious girlfriend.

"Rach? Rachel? Baby, can you hear me? Please open your eyes, _please_ wake up…" Quinn stroked a few blood-matted strands of dark hair back from her girlfriend's temple, trying to see how deep the cut was. There was so much blood…but they'd been drinking all night, and alcohol thinned the blood, didn't it? Quinn blinked and shook her head sharply from side to side, trying to wake _herself_ up and think what to do. "Rachel Barbara Berry, wake up right this minute! You're missing your curtain call on Broadway!" It was a low blow, but it had the desired effect. With a low, pitiful groan, Rachel's chocolate-brown eyes cracked open, and fixed hazily on Quinn leaning over her.

"Quinn…I'm on the floor," she mumbled, reaching up uncertainly to touch her head. Quinn grabbed her hand and pulled it back down.

"Yeah, I know baby…you're gonna be fine, okay? I promise. But you have a little cut on your head and we need to get you to the hospital now. Do you think you can stand up, or should I get Puck to carry you?"

"I want _you_ to carry me, Quinn…_you're_ my hero," Rachel smiled woozily up at her girlfriend, holding her arms out. Quinn bit the inside of her lip, willing herself not to cry. She _had_ to keep it together right now. For Rachel.

"I wish I could carry you, sweetie, but you know I can't. Can you sit up? Come on baby, I've got you…" Quinn helped Rachel sit up, yanking off her lilac sweater in the process and pressing it to the side of Rachel's head to stop the bleeding. "There we go, that's good, you're doing great Rach. Do you think you can stand up?" Rachel blinked woozily.

"Uhhh…fuck…don't get mad, but I think I'm gonna"—before Rachel could finish her warning, she leaned away from the blonde girl and threw up all over the floor.

"Shh, it's okay baby," Quinn murmured soothingly, even while her heart hammered anxiously in her chest. "I'm gonna get you out of here, and you're gonna be just fine, I promise."

"Quinn? I don't think I like gold star martinis anymore."

The sight of Quinn supporting a blood-soaked Rachel down the hall brought the party to an abrupt end, as half the glee club flocked around them and helped the unsteady girl into the car. Quinn gave her keys to Mercedes, who swore she hadn't had a drop to drink all night; and while Kurt rode shotgun, Quinn crawled into the back beside her girlfriend. Rachel threw up again in the backseat, then cried the rest of the way to the hospital about ruining Quinn's dress; but Quinn just shushed her and rocked her and tried to stop the bleeding.

Sometime between getting out of the car and being admitted to the ER, Rachel passed out again. The last thing she saw was Quinn's face, tense with worry, hovering protectively over her. And when she woke up—clean and bandaged in a brightly-lit hospital room—the first thing she felt was her girlfriend's cool hair spilling over her hips, as Quinn lay fast asleep across her stomach. Rachel blinked and smiled woozily. Her head throbbed and her stomach ached; but she knew she was okay. Just like Quinn had promised.

"My hero," the little starlet murmured. Then she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.


	33. Boo Boo Duck

Hey all, sorry for the long wait on this update—it's been a really crazy month! Here's a chapter of pure, 100-percent fluff for your troubles. Enjoy!

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 33**

**By JewWitch**

…

In the morning, Rachel was released from the Emergency Room with a mild concussion and four stitches in her head. Quinn fussed and hovered over her on the ride home while Rachel's dads assured the anxious blonde that a day or two of rest, Tylenol, and fluids would have their little starlet feeling like herself again. Rachel, for once, had very little to say; even though she was technically awake, she seemed too groggy to participate in the conversation, and this made Quinn uneasy no matter how much reassurance Michael and Jacob offered.

They got home and had a little breakfast, and Quinn called her mom to tell her what had happened and that she'd be spending the rest of the weekend at the Berrys' house. The two girls had just curled up on the couch with a pile of DVDs when the doorbell rang, and no less than half the glee club (all the girls, plus Kurt) stood on the doorstep, bearing an assortment of get-well gifts including vegan chocolate, flowers, and an assortment of makeup to cover the bruise that reached from Rachel's temple, to halfway across her cheekbone. Quinn beamed and welcomed them in, pleased to see her teammates rallying around her girlfriend like this, despite the small fights that had been erupting in glee club lately when Rachel bossed the rest of them around.

"You'll want to make sure you get plenty of vitamin C while you're healing," Kurt said importantly as he sat himself primly beside Rachel on the couch. "It will help ward off infection _and_ improve your skin tone while it's mending." He deposited his gifts—a bottle of vitamin C tablets as well as a jar of vitamin C face cream—on the coffee table.

"Thank you," Rachel smiled sleepily, eyes just half-open. When she didn't say anything else, Kurt looked at Quinn in alarm.

"They didn't lobotomize her, did they?"

"No, jackass," Quinn snorted, a half-grin tugging at the corner of her lips as she sat on Rachel's other side and put a pillow against her shoulder, so the dark-haired girl could lean against her comfortably without jostling the bandage taped over her temple. "She's just really groggy from that small matter of getting hit in the head with a big, metal shovel. Plus, we had to wake her up every fifteen minutes at the hospital because of the concussion. And we have to _keep_ waking her up every hour for the next 12 hours; but after that she should be okay. At least, that's what the doctors said." Quinn stroked Rachel's hair absently as she spoke, and Rachel nuzzled up to her, eyes closing all the way as the others sat quietly around her.

"M'okay, guys," the little diva murmured woozily, eyes still closed as she cuddled up comfortably against Quinn's side. "No worries…aaaaall good here." Tina and Mercedes looked at each other and bit down a small fit of giggles. Quinn glared at them.

"Girl, we should be filming this," Mercedes chuckled, pulling out her new iPod. "Who else has presents for Rachel?"

"She's not a toy," Quinn huffed, grabbing the iPod away and turning off the video recorder. "If you just came to laugh at her while she's hurt"—

"Calm down, mama bear, I wasn't making fun," Mercedes hastily backpedaled, laying a reassuring hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I just think she's real cute right now. Y'know, like that YouTube clip of the kid who woke up all stoned from the dentist. We're not hating, okay?"

"Yeah," Tina agreed, putting her fair-trade vegan chocolate on the coffee table next to Kurt's vitamin C cream. "We're just here to help, Quinn. See? Show her what you brought, Brittany."

"This is just a loaner," Brittany said seriously as she pulled a fluffy stuffed duck from her bag, holding it out to Quinn with a beaming smile. "You remember Boo Boo Duck, right Quinn? Santana got him for me that time I fell off the pyramid last year. See, you can unzip his stomach and put a cold-pak inside for when you get hurt. I thought Rachel might like to borrow him till her head feels better."

"Thanks, Brit," Quinn smiled grudgingly, taking the cold duck (Brittany had already put an ice pack inside) and pressing it gently to the side of Rachel's head. The sleeping girl sighed and shifted, but didn't wake up.

"I didn't bring anything," Santana huffed, rolling her eyes at the sappy expressions on the rest of their faces. "I'm just here in case she does something funny." Quinn glared at her.

"_No_ pictures, San. Or I will make sure you have knee-shaped bruises on your back every day from now till graduation."

"Yeah, yeah, geez. Take a chill pill Q, I won't embarrass your midget, okay?" Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling unwillingly at the effort they were all making—even Santana, in her own grudging way.

"Okay, fine. You guys can stay for a while if you want, but you _have_ to let her rest. So sit down and watch Funny Girl, or else take a hike."

"I thought that's what we were doing already," Brittany said, nodding towards Rachel, who was fast asleep against Quinn's shoulder with her mouth wide open, Brittany's duck-shaped cold pack draped over the side of her head.

"I meant the movie, Brit," Quinn giggled softly, nodding towards the screen, where Barbara Streisand was paused mid-song.

They all settled down after that, watching the movie and giving each other pedicures while they chatted quietly about school gossip and glee. Quinn woke Rachel up after an hour and asked her a few questions to make sure she was lucid, then let her go back to sleep. The movie ended, and Jacob came down from his office to ask them if they'd like to order Thai food for lunch, when the doorbell rang again. They all heard a brief exchange of male voices in the hall; then Finn walked into the living room with a large floral bouquet, and a very anxious expression on his face. Quinn glared at him with a look of wrath so intense, the entire room froze. Her pale cheeks flushed pink with protectiveness and rage.

"Are you crazy, or just stupid?" The blonde girl hissed between gritted teeth. "You've got some nerve showing your face here, Finn Hudson!"

"Quinn, honey, calm down," Jacob said gently, getting between the furious girl and the huge football player who stood anxiously in the middle of the living room. "Finn told me what happened, and though I'm certainly not very happy with him, it sounds like it really _was_ an accident. He's come here to apologize."

"Well he can't apologize right now, because Rachel's asleep. So take your stupid flowers and get lost before I hit _you_ in the head with a shovel, you big jerk."

"I didn't hit her!" Finn spluttered, blanching as all their eyes flew to his face with the same judgmental expression. "I would never! You saw what happened, Quinn—you know it was an accident!"

"All I saw was you grabbing her while she was _screaming_ for you to let her go. She had to kick you in the balls to make you let go of her, Finn. Does _that_ sound like an _accident?"_

"I was drunk, I screwed up," Finn groaned, his cheeks flushing bright red under all their accusing glares. "But I swear, Quinn, I was just trying to talk to her. I never would've forced her…you know that. And the shovel—she did that to herself. It wasn't me, technically."

"_Technically?"_ Quinn hissed, her voice getting so high-pitched that Rachel stirred against her side, and they all froze anxiously as her dark chocolate eyes blinked half-open.

"Hi Finn," the groggy girl mumbled woozily. "Are those for me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" Finn gulped, suddenly noticing the bouquet still clutched in his sweaty hand. "Rach, I'm _so_ sorry for what happened last night. I swear I would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know," Rachel murmured, her eyes already closed again. "S'okay. Too much Goldschlager…" Then her voice trailed off, and her breath evened out in sleep again. Quinn smoothed a lock of dark hair back from her bruised cheek.

"Okay, fine, she forgives you. Rachel is a very forgiving person. Now leave us alone."

"Quinn…" Finn whined, his expression half pleading and half resentful as he spluttered, waving his flowers around in the air.

"I'll put these in some water, shall I?" Kurt said brightly, anxious to escape the tense scene for a moment as he took the flowers from his step-brother.

"Thank you for paying your respects, Finn, but I think you'd better go now," Jacob said gently, patting the taller boy's shoulder. "I'll still have to speak to your parents about this." Finn nodded dejectedly, shoved his large hands into his pockets, and slumped out.

"What a tool," Santana snorted when he was gone. "I can't believe the midget just forgave him like that, without even milking it for some slave time. I'd have made his ass work for it a _lot_ harder."

"Well, Rachel _is_ a very forgiving person," Quinn repeated with a sigh, her fingers twirling absently through the sleeping girl's hair as she thought back on how easily Rachel had forgiven _her_ when she'd needed it, after all the torment she'd caused in the little starlet's life before they became friends, and then girlfriends. Could she really begrudge Finn a little forgiveness, too? "But _I'm_ still thinking about all the different ways I could castrate him."

"Hey, you need a hand with that, Q, just shout," Santana grinned. Quinn smiled reluctantly.

"Thanks, San, I'll keep that in mind."

"I could send my cat to read his diary," Brittany offered brightly. "Or we could turn him into a gay shark!"

"Um…thanks Brit. I'll keep that in mind, too," Quinn smirked, biting her lip to keep from laughing or jostling her sleeping girlfriend. Santana gave her a warning glare, and Quinn hastily changed gears. "So, uh…who wants lunch?"


	34. Vegan Cookies Make You Gay

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 34

By JewWitch

…

"Rach, time to wake up," Quinn hummed, gently stroking her sleeping girlfriend's cheek and lightly scratching the back of her neck. "Lunch is here…c'mon baby girl, let's see those big brown eyes."

"M'not hungry, Quinn," the dark-haired girl murmured, her eyes fluttering a little; then closing again with a soft sigh and a sleepy twitch of her nose.

"You know, she really is adorable when she's not bossing us all around," Kurt observed wryly, opening containers of pad thai and masaman curry and passing them around to the others. "I'm starting to understand what you see in her, Quinn."

"Yeah, well if she wasn't here then _you'd_ be the one bossing us around, wouldn't you?" Quinn snapped irritably, rubbing her eyes. Kurt raised an eyebrow, and exchanged a knowing glance with Mercedes.

"Quinn, honey, how long has it been since you slept?" the fair-haired boy asked gently, squeezing the head cheerio's shoulder sympathetically.

"Dunno. I fell asleep for a little while in the hospital when Rachel was in recovery…and before that…the night before last, I guess." Quinn sighed and rubbed her eyes again.

"Do you want us all to go so you can get some sleep?" Tina asked kindly.

"No, no, eat your lunch," Quinn assured them with a weary smile. "We've already got all this food…and I know it means a lot to Rachel that you're all here. And to me." They all grinned back at her and dug into their plates of curry and noodles, and Quinn did her best to rouse her groggy girlfriend long enough to get a little food into her. Rachel whined and grumbled, but finally perked up a little when Quinn put a plate in front of her. They turned on the Cartoon Network while they ate, and Jacob came in with a plate of fresh-baked, vegan chocolate chip cookies for everyone, along with a handful of immune-boosting supplements for Rachel.

"These are really good cookies," Brittany said enthusiastically, reaching for another. "I can't believe they're vegan." Then she frowned when she saw Mercedes take one. "Mercedes, are you sure you want to do that?"

"Why not? You just said they're good," Mercedes frowned, with the slightly puzzled expression that most of the glee club wore when having a conversation with Brittany.

"Well, sure, for _me_ they are. But you're straight." Mercedes just blinked at her.

"So?" Tina asked, bemused, as she reached for a cookie herself.

"So, vegan food is only for gay people. I don't know what happens when straight people eat it—you might not like it, or if you do, then it might turn you gay. You might not like dating Mike Chang anymore if you eat that cookie, Tina." Brittany's expression was very serious, and Santana gave them all a warning glare before they could laugh at her.

"Right…well…I think I'll take my chances," Tina smirked, failing to completely erase the amused expression from her face as she bit into a cookie. Kurt stood up to clear their plates, and nodded towards Quinn and Rachel with an approving smile.

"I think team Faberry is down for the count," he murmured quietly, gesturing towards the blonde head Cheerio and the dark-haired diva, both fast asleep on the couch. Quinn was in a slightly awkward position, half sitting up with her head on her shoulder at a sharp angle, and Rachel slumped against her side. "Here, give me that pillow Tina…" Very gently, so as not to wake them, Kurt and Mercedes managed to shift the two sleeping girls into a more comfortable position, and as soon as they were both stretched out on the couch, they spooned together automatically in their sleep.

"No…Jello shots…" Rachel whimpered in her sleep, twitching slightly. Quinn yawned and cuddled up against her back, automatically slipping one arm around her girlfriend's hips without opening her eyes.

"S'okay Rach…got you…" Quinn sighed deeply, and began to snore softly. Brittany giggled.

"They're even cuter than the baby ducks we saw at the petting zoo last week, San," the blonde Cheerio beamed, taking the quilt from the foot of the couch and draping it over her sleeping friends. As they all stood and began gathering their things to leave, Brittany crouched down by the stuffed duck sitting on the ottoman. "Take good care of them, Boo Boo Duck," she whispered, and gave him a little pat on her way out the door.

…

The next time Rachel woke up, she found herself wrapped in her girlfriend's arms, one hand grazing gently through her hair while the other traced aimless patterns over her lower back. "Hmm…a girl could get used to waking up like this," she sighed, stretching her back with a huge yawn.

"As long as we leave out a repeat of the debilitating head injury, you're on," Quinn agreed, her hazel eyes full of warmth as she tilted Rachel's chin up to inspect her face more closely. "How do you feel, sweetie pie? How's your head?"

"Better, I think," Rachel said slowly, stretching her neck to one side, then the other. "I was really fuzzy for a while there…it felt like the time I went under anesthesia at the dentist and had my Britney Spears fantasy. Was the whole glee club here today, or did I hallucinate that, too?"

"No, that was real—just the girls, anyway. And Kurt."

"Kurt _is_ one of the girls," Rachel agreed, grinning softly and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What were they all doing here? Did something else bad happen?"

"Nope, they were just worried about you," Quinn replied with a smile, wrapping both arms around her girlfriend's smaller frame and pulling her up a few inches, so they were lying face-to-face on the couch. "Everyone wanted to make sure you were okay."

"They were worried about _me?_ Really?" Rachel asked doubtfully, one eyebrow going up incredulously.

"Yes, really," Quinn nodded, smoothing a lock of dark hair back and kissing the little diva lightly on the lips. "You're kind of a big deal nowadays, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Mmm…then I guess my evil plan for high school popularity has finally succeeded, and we can break up now." Rachel sat up and brushed her hair off her shoulder, smirking playfully as she made to leave her chagrined girlfriend lying on the couch.

"Hey!" Quinn squealed, grabbing the dark-haired girl around the waist and pulling her back down onto the couch. "What about _my_ evil plan?"

"Sorry, I didn't know you had one, too," Rachel said seriously, biting back her giggles.

"Oh yes," Quinn nodded, her face equally serious as she pulled Rachel closer and began nipping lightly at her neck. "I plan to spend the rest of my life worshipping your body." The blonde girl's fingers slipped up the back of her girlfriend's pajama top, drawing teasing circles over her smooth skin. Rachel sighed and arched her back.

"That…doesn't sound particularly evil."

"Oh, it is. Sinister." Quinn kissed a slow path down Rachel's throat, shifting her hips against the couch so she could slide one leg between the little diva's. "It's practically a conspiracy…" Rachel whimpered and dug her hands into Quinn's hair.

"Oh, yeah…evil is _good_," the dark-haired girl moaned enthusiastically.


	35. Zombie Camp

What up, Faberry fans!

Thanks as always for keeping those reviews coming—you always make me want to write more! In celebration of the epic awesomeness that was the superbowl ep, this chap has a lot more of the actual episode in it than usual—I don't know about you guys, but there was just _so much_ in this ep that I saw Faberry-ized in my head, I couldn't resist a little bit of a re-write. Also a bit of Brittana fun in here, too—I'm assuming I'm also not the only one who was annoyed that the writers made Santana say that she basically doesn't care if Brittany dies. That is bullshit. Luckily, you have me to show you what _really_ happened! Enjoy…

-JW

….

Take Me As I Am  
Chapter 35  
By JewWitch

"No way. No freaking _way_ are you getting in that cannon, B," Santana growled, shaking her head vehemently. "I let the flaming cone-bras go 'cause it was sexy, but this is going to get you _killed._"

"But Santi, if I don't do it, all the baby cannons will go hungry," Brittany whimpered, holding out the handwritten crayon note from "Mama Cannon," begging her to do the stunt for the sake of the cannon babies. Santana simultaneously clenched her teeth and her fists, while her face turned several shades of red. Quinn sighed, knowing that Santana's fury was not with Brittany, but with Coach Sylvester for manipulating the sweet blonde so blatantly.

"Please don't be mad at me, baby," Brittany begged, her eyes filling with tears as she cringed back from Santana's furious expression, hugging the crayon note to her chest. Quinn sighed, and reluctantly got between them.

"It's okay Britt," she smiled reassuringly, squeezing the taller girl's arm. "We'll make sure we find a really good job for the cannon, okay? The cannon babies won't go hungry. But we're not going to let Sue put one of us in there, either. Don't you think the baby cannons would be more upset if they saw their, um..._Mama Cannon_...commit a murder right in front of them? They'd be scarred for the rest of their little cannon lives." Quinn ignored the sharp jab in her side from Santana, raising an eyebrow at Brittany expectantly.

"Good point, Quinn," Brittany nodded seriously, looking hugely relieved. "I didn't even think of that. If we don't speak up for the baby cannons, who will?" Quinn and Santana nodded stoically in agreement. As the three Cheerios left the field, Santana leaned into Quinn and murmured a quiet thanks. Quinn just gave her a wink and an easy grin. Maybe things were finally settling down between the divided realms of football, cheerleading and glee- maybe they could stop looking over their shoulders every time they crossed that line between worlds, and just relax and do their thing.

Quinn's optimistic attitude was obliterated the moment the Cheerios stepped into the choir room, and found a full-on, gleeks-vs-jocks rage riot in progress.

"What the _hell _is going on in here?" the blonde girl whispered harshly, trying to make sense of the sudden turf war that had erupted. Mr. Schue and Coach Beiste were both red-faced and screaming, and Quinn and Santana actually had to pull Kurt and Rachel off a flabbergasted Azimio before a shrill whistle-blow from Coach Beiste restored order.

"That's enough!" Beiste bellowed, quieting all the hollering. "I don't wanna hear another peep out of you damn babies!" She glanced regretfully at the three Cheerios, who blinked back at her in surprise. What had _they_ done to be included in this? "Here's the situation: for one week, every member of the football team is also a member of glee. Anyone who doesn't participate in glee this week will _not_ be playing in the championship game. You're either in or you're out, gentlemen. Ladies," she turned and nodded to the confused Cheerios, "You've got a decision to make, as well. Sue has pulled some strings to move the regional cheerleading championships to the same day as our homecoming game- you'll have to choose. Cheerleading or glee." 

"But that's not _fair!_" Quinn exclaimed, feeling all their eyes turn to her with their opinions already formed. "The boys don't have to choose- why do we? Why can't anyone ever stand up to Coach Sylvester? She's only doing this because we won't let her shoot Brittany out of a human cannon!" An awkward silence fell over the room as the jocks and the gleeks all stared expectantly at the three Cheerios. It was clear from their expressions that none of them had any doubt in their minds about what the cheerleaders would choose- except for Rachel, who had her big brown eyes fixed sadly on her girlfriend. Quinn stared back at her for a moment, seeing the pain and uncertainty swirling behind her dark chocolate gaze. It killed the Cheerio to see the doubt in her girlfriend's eyes; it killed her that Rachel wasn't sure she could count on her. Especially because _she_ wasn't sure, either; not about this.

"I know it's not fair, Quinn, but there's nothing Coach Beiste and I can do about it," Mr. Schue said gravely, shrugging listlessly against the piano. "I'm afraid this is the situation. You have to choose- quit cheerleading, or quit glee." Quinn shook her head angrily, feeling her fingernails digging into her palms as she clenched her fists. She didn't want to give Sue the satisfaction of her having a meltdown over this. With no idea what her decision would be, she just nodded, and followed the others out to the auditorium for their first day of "zombie camp."

It was actually more fun than any of them expected, lurching around the stage as zombies along with the football goons. As soon as they got over their self-consciousness, the football boys were actually the goofiest zombies of all, and the auditorium echoed with their undead groans and howls. For a while, Quinn forgot about the choice she had to make, and just enjoyed being in a room where both her worlds were finally coming together.

"Zombie camp was funner than I expected," Brittany exclaimed cheerfully, echoing Quinn's sentiments exactly as they stood over the bathroom mirror cleaning off their zombie makeup. "And glee and football together…it's like a double-rainbow. A zombie double-rainbow."

"What the hell are we going to do?" Quinn snapped, her temper flaring again as she turned to her friends with a scowl on her zombie-pale face. "If we go to the cheerleading regionals, we'll miss the halftime show and be kicked out of glee. If we go to the game, we'll get kicked out of Cheerios and be social pariahs. We're completely screwed."

"Maybe _you_ are," Santana shrugged, turning back to the mirror dismissively. "You'll be in the doghouse with Thumbelina if you quit glee on her. Then again, if you quit Cheerios, you take an express train straight back to loser town, and she'll probably break up with you anyway. Tough choice."

"Thanks San, you're really helping," Quinn huffed, wiping a smear of fake blood from the corner of her mouth. "Anyway, you're wrong—Rachel wouldn't break up with me, not for this. Not for anything. That doesn't mean I want her to get a social downgrade just because of some decision I made all on my own. But I love glee…I'm just so torn."

"Well I'm not," Santana shrugged dismissively.

"I'm Brittany," Brittany chimed in helpfully.

"Look, Q, you need to chill before you give yourself an ulcer," Santana huffed impatiently. "Yeah, we all love glee; but what is it gonna get us at the end of the day? You _know_ the only reason we get away with all the girl-on-girl stuff is 'cause we're Cheerios. We're the three hottest cheerleaders in this whole school, and that gives us license to do whatever we damn well please. Take that away? And it's bye-bye Homecoming Queen, hello slushie facial. Do you _really_ think Rachel will thank you for that, now that she knows how it feels to be on top?" Santana drummed her fingers impatiently on the edge of the sink. Quinn sighed and stared miserably at the ground.

Ten minutes later, all three of them handed their letters of resignation to Mr. Schue. Quinn looked at the ground the whole time, unable to meet anyone's eyes, though she could feel all their accusing stares burning a hole right through her chest.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me—to all of us!" Rachel yelled at Quinn's back as the blonde girl marched silently out of the choir room. "It's like last year never even happened, and you're back to being that shallow, self-involved head cheerleader who doesn't care about anything besides being popular!" Quinn came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hall, wheeling around to face her girlfriend with a twisted expression of shame and anguish warring in her hazel eyes.

"You think this is easy for me?" she demanded, her voice low and furious. "You think I _want _to quit glee? I don't have a choice, Rach. I'm doing this for you as much as I am for me. The way we got treated last year will seem like a Caribbean _cruise_ compared to what would happen around here if I quit Cheerios for glee."

"Don't you _dare _lay this on me, Quinn Cordelia Fabray," Rachel seethed, dimly aware through her fury that the rest of the glee club was creeping out of the choir room to watch them fight. Why did it always seem like they had to have an audience for their worst moments? "I never asked you to quit. I don't want that—I want you on stage with me, no matter what. If that means our precious popularity takes a hit, well, I can live with that. Unlike you, I don't make _my_ decisions based on what other people will think." Quinn's eyes stung with angry tears, and she shook her head hopelessly.

"That was way harsh, Rach," Finn muttered uneasily.

"Don't defend me, Finn," Quinn snarled, wiping her eyes roughly on the sleeve of her Cheerios jacket. "If that's what my own girlfriend really thinks of me, then I guess there's nothing left to talk about. Now if you'll all excuse me, I have to go stop Coach Sylvester from shooting my squad out of a freaking cannon." Arms crossed, Quinn spun on her heels and stormed out.

…

"Hi sweetheart, dinner's almost ready," Jacob called when Rachel trudged in through the front door.

"I'm not hungry, Dad," the little brunette mumbled dejectedly, kicking off her shoes and running up the stairs. A second later, he heard her door slam. _Yikes_, he thought warily, turning the heat down to low on the stove and following his teenager-angst-alarm up the stairs. But for once, Rachel really didn't feel like talking about it. She just told him she had a fight with Quinn, but they would work it out on their own; and when she refused to come down to dinner, he brought her up a tray with a bowl of spaghetti and the all-important glass of water. Rachel thanked him politely, but when he came back for the tray at bedtime, the spaghetti was still untouched.

Rachel spent more or less the entire evening trying to get Quinn to talk to her so they could make up; but the blonde girl had obviously turned off her phone, as it went straight to voicemail every time. And when Rachel tried to call her landline, her mom said she was spending the night at Brittany's. The little starlet even contemplated going over there herself and forcing her girlfriend to talk to her; but she didn't want another screaming match tonight, and Quinn was making it pretty obvious that she didn't feel like talking. And, really, what else was there to say? Rachel wasn't going to apologize for any of the things she'd said, and Quinn obviously wasn't changing her mind about glee. So for the first time in their relationship, Rachel went to bed without making up with her girlfriend.

The next day at school felt like a deep freeze in Siberia; and they day after that, and the day after that. The Cheerios' absence from glee rehearsals had a surprisingly heavy impact on the whole team, even with the added chaos and energy of having the entire football team in their midst. Rachel distracted herself with coaching the football players on their vocals, dance moves and makeup, and for a little while, it almost worked—they all came together as a team, and when they did their final dress rehearsal of the "Thriller/Heads Will Roll" mash-up in the auditorium, it actually seemed like things were coming together for a truly incredible performance, one that had the power to change not only the jocks, but the entire school's attitude towards glee.

Then on their way out of the auditorium, the football team got mass-slushied by the hockey team, and just like that, everything they'd worked so hard for went up in smoke. The football team quit glee, which left them with no championship game and no halftime show. With nothing left to lose, the remaining girls (and Kurt) offered themselves as emergency-substitute football players; and somehow, their tiny group rallied and convinced themselves they still had a shot. What exactly they were shooting for, none of them could really say; but they knew they couldn't quit now. They may be gleeks, but no _way _were they quitters.

When game night came, they took to the field ready to pull out all the stops. Rachel did her best not to think about Quinn, because every time she did, her stomach felt like it was breeding alien larvae. They hadn't spoken in three days, a record for their relationship; and Rachel knew that if she let herself fall apart, they'd really have no chance at making this insane plan work. They _would_ talk again, and they _would_ make up—just not right now. Believing that was the only way Rachel could keep her morale up for the performance ahead of them.

Despite their collective spirit and enthusiasm, the truth was they were still only half a team, and by the end of the first quarter, they were down 17 to 0. Finn was trying to convince them they still had a shot at winning; but the expressions around the huddle made it clear to all of them that this was nothing but a pipe dream.

"Face it, Finn," Rachel said, squaring her shoulders decisively under her enormous football pads. "Our only chance at redemption is kicking ass at the halftime show. And our only chance at doing _that_ is if we do it all together." She fixed her gaze on each of her teammates in turn, and they all nodded, emboldened by their tiny star's fierce leadership, even if she was so out of her element that she had her football pads on backwards throughout the first quarter.

"Okay captain, we're with you," Finn grinned, slapping her shoulder pad. Rachel beamed up at him. "What do you want us to do?"

"As soon as the buzzer rings for halftime, you _have_ to go convince the rest of the football team to do the halftime show with us, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, okay," Puck sniggered sarcastically. "Any suggestions on how we do that?"

"You're a big boy, Noah. Figure it out." Rachel patted his bicep and gave him her best, most winning gold-star grin. Puck straightened up a bit, unable to stop himself from smiling back. Rachel gave the boys a high five and turned to run off the field.

"Whoa, wait a minute! Where are you going?" Finn asked bemusedly.

"I'm going to get our Cheerios back!" Rachel hollered over her shoulder, without turning to look back. She ran straight out of the stadium and to the school parking lot, where the Cheerios' bus was thankfully still loading. Quinn, Santana and Brittany were all standing next to the human cannon, staring up at it with expressions of pure dread.

"Quinn!" Rachel gasped, so relieved that she wasn't too late that she almost felt faint. The blonde girl's expression when she took in her girlfriend's outfit was priceless—her hazel eyes went wide as dinner plates, and her mouth hung open like a cartoon.

"Damn, Berry, you look _good_ when you go butch," Santana smirked approvingly. Brittany nodded enthusiastically. Quinn ignored them.

"What are you doing here, Rachel? You're gonna miss your own performance!"

"I came to bring you back—all of you. Don't get on that bus, Quinn. Come do the halftime show with us instead." Rachel's dark eyes shone with single-minded urgency as she took her girlfriend's chilled hands in her own and squeezed them.

"Rach, I _can't_," Quinn groaned, shaking her head with an expression of pure anguish. "It's too late, okay? Sue made us choose, and we chose. This is how it has to be."

"No it isn't!" Rachel yelled furiously. "Fuck Sue Sylvester—if you get on that bus, you're saying she owns you, all of you. She made you slap each other with raw meat! She tried to fire you out of a God damn _cannon_, Brittany! She doesn't care if you live or die! Are you really going to let her decide what's important to you?" The three Cheerios all looked at each other; hesitantly at first, then with small, devilish smiles creeping onto their faces.

"Okay," Quinn said, smiling serenely. Rachel's hand squeezed hers so hard, it almost cut off the blood flow to her fingers.

"Okay?" The little diva repeated, uncomprehending for a moment.

"Okay," Quinn repeated, grinning, as Rachel squealed with delight and jumped into her arms, slightly impeded by the bulky football pads under her shirt. Quinn laughed and spun her around joyfully.

"Fuck Sue Sylvester," Santana echoed, slipping her hand into Brittany's. "She put me on the bottom of the pyramid."

"I'll write a letter to Mama Cannon tomorrow explaining what happened," Brittany beamed. They all heard the tinny squeal of Sue Sylvester's megaphone behind them as they turned to leave.

"No time for a lesbionic foursome, ladies—bus leaves in five."

"Yeah, we quit," Quinn smirked, her cheeks flushing with pleasure as she felt Rachel's fingers lace with hers.

"You can't quit," Sue said dismissively. "It's blood in, blood out. I either kick you out or you die."

"Okay. But we still quit," Santana shrugged, her smirk just as wide and satisfied as Quinn's as they walked away together, leaving Sue speechless and utterly flabbergasted behind them.

"Do you think she'll cave on Monday and let us back on the squad?" The Latina asked pensively as they made their way back to the football field, where the hooting of the crowd sent electric tingles of anticipation through their veins as they thought about the insanely epic performance they were about to give.

"Dunno, don't care," Quinn shrugged dismissively. "The truth is that she needs us a _lot _more than we need her. If she wants to grovel, then we'll see." She squeezed the small hand held in her own, and turned, beaming, to the little football-clad diva beside her. "Thanks for coming back for me, Rach." Then they grabbed each other at the same time and shared a rough, urgent kiss that they both knew would have to hold them over until after the game—or at least until after the halftime show. But after three days apart, it was hard to hold back.

"Hey, horndogs, you know I love watching you mack on each other, but can you save it for later? We are seriously on the clock here." Santana tugged on one of Rachel's braids to get her attention, and the two girls broke apart, smiling shyly.

"You're absolutely right Santana, I apologize for my temporary loss of control. Come on ladies, let's go kick some ass!"

"Hey Rach?" Quinn murmured as Brittany and Santana ran off towards the field.

"Hmm?"

"You really _do_ look _insanely_ hot in that football uniform." Rachel flushed pleasurably, gave Quinn a sly wink, and they both ran off after the others to put on their zombie makeup.


	36. Biological Warfare

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 36**

**By JewWitch**

…

The Monday after the star Cheerios defected from the squad was noticeably awkward. Not just for the three of them, but for the entire school—Santana made sure of that. She waltzed down the hall looking fiercer than ever in her rarely-seen street clothes, her expression so predatory that most underclassmen literally turned and ran when they saw her coming. She managed to corner and terrorize a few before they could get away, however; and rather than using physical violence, she just ordered them around like servants, anxious to ensure that she was still treated with the same respect and fear as when she was a star cheerleader.

Brittany weathered the transition with considerably more grace, bouncing through life with her usual zen-like state of cheerful confusion. The only real impact her new ex-Cheerio status seemed to have on her was that she actually noticed all the appreciative looks from her fellow students (boys and girls alike), which had become more pronounced now that she was out of her uniform, and wearing seriously adorable outfits than only enhanced her vibrant good looks. Santana noticed this, as well—_and_ she noticed all the other people noticing. There seemed to be a direct correlation between Santana noticing Brittany's many admirers, and the level of wrath with which she treated the rest of the student body.

Quinn, of course, was handling the whole thing with her usual quiet dignity. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in her sweet little sundress and cardigan; though Rachel could see the anxiety clouding her hazel eyes as they swept down the hallway on that first morning out of her uniform. She wasn't going on the attack like Santana—she was too evolved for that now, Rachel thought proudly—but her anxiety was still palpable, at least to the dark-haired diva who held her clammy hand as they made their way down the hall.

"Quinn, are you all right?" Rachel asked quietly, squeezing her girlfriend's hand in her own. "You seem a little jumpy."

"Yeah, well, I'm just trying to stay on alert for that first slushie facial we both know is coming. If they want to hit me, they're gonna find out _exactly_ what the consequences are. And if they want to hit you…well, then they'll _really_ find out." Quinn's eyes narrowed and her lip curled, making her look a little Santana-ish for a second. Rachel balked.

"That's a very chivalrous sentiment; but let's not jump to conclusions, okay? I know you're stressing about the social ramifications of your decision to defect from the Cheerios, and you're probably having flashbacks to last year, which I know wasn't exactly a cake walk…but there are some crucial mitigating factors you're probably forgetting." Rachel's tummy did a little happy dance when she saw a reluctant smile break over Quinn's face.

"I love it when you talk like a NASA engineer," the blonde girl grinned, shaking her head.

"I love that you understand me when I talk like a NASA engineer," Rachel replied, leaning up to tuck a lock of wavy blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear. "_And_ I love it when you wear your hair down…haven't seen much of that this year." Quinn's smile disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, and she began walking briskly down the hall again, tugging Rachel along slightly faster than necessary.

"Um, thanks I guess. So what are these crucial mitigating factors I'm forgetting, about how awful my life out of the Cheerios was?"

"Yes, well. I hate to even bring this up, because I know it's a sensitive subject, but…being off the Cheerios wasn't the _only_ change in your life last year. Getting pregnant might have had a little something to do with it, too." Rachel stroked her thumb over the back of Quinn's hand, trying to show that it wasn't an accusation; just a simple truth. Quinn just shrugged, staying silent.

"And there's another importance difference between this year and last year that you may not be fully appreciating," Rachel went on, her stomach wriggling in anticipation as they approached Quinn's locker. "Last year, you were _kicked off_ the team; this year, you quit on your own, over a very serious safety concern vis-à-vis the advisability of allowing your teammates to be fired out of a cannon. It's a totally different position, and frankly, I think you're going to find public opinion on your side now. You're the captain; you were the one protecting the rest of the squad from Sue's lunacy. And her gunpowder." Quinn snorted a little half-laugh, shaking her head as she popped her locker open. Rachel watched her face expectantly.

"Oh…" Quinn gave a soft gasp as her locker door swung open, revealing a fragrant bouquet of pink and lavender lilacs balancing on top of her textbooks. Then she turned and raised an eyebrow at Rachel, who was grinning and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "You know it's not Valentine's Day for another week, right?"

"Of course, silly. This is just day one of the countdown. I thought that since we didn't really get to do anything for Valentine's last year, between you being eight months pregnant and me having tonsillitis, we deserve to have twice as much fun this year." The dark-haired girl cocked her head, her grin faltering somewhat when she saw the small, sad smile on her girlfriend's face. It was her _I'm really depressed right now, but you want me to be happy, so I'll pretend I am_ smile, one that Rachel knew well, but hadn't seen for quite a while. It made her heart drop like a dead weight into her stomach.

"That's really, really sweet, Rach. Thank you for the flowers—they're beautiful." Quinn reached out and cupped a hand to Rachel's cheek, giving her a quick, soft kiss on the lips. Then she scooped up a few books, closed her locker, and walked off to class with a quiet sigh. Rachel watched her go dejectedly; then her eye caught Brittany's across the hall. She had the same miserable expression on her face, watching Santana storm off to class in a cloud of gloom. When the tall blonde girl saw Rachel watching her, she pushed off the wall she'd been leaning up against, and crossed to meet the tiny starlet by Quinn's locker.

"What are we gonna do about them?" Rachel asked with a sigh, bumping her hip affectionately against Brittany's. The two of them had grown surprisingly close this year, often ending up passing the time together when Quinn and Santana stayed late at Cheerios practice to argue with Coach Sylvester over their routines, or tried to outdo each other at the gym for hours on end.

"We need to cheer them up," Brittany said firmly, in her most decisive, _2 + 2 = rainbows_ voice. "What do you think about planning a super-romantic-double-date for Valentine's Day? We could take them somewhere out of town, go dancing in Cincinnati or to a really fancy restaurant, or something."

"I think that's a great idea," Rachel agreed happily. Brittany beamed.

"We'll just have to make sure my cat doesn't follow us," the tall blonde added seriously.

"Oh yeah? How come?" Rachel asked, long over the impulse to question Brittany's insane non-sequiturs. In truth, she found her friend's ditzy-cheerleader-Zen rather adorable.

"She doesn't like being left behind when San and I go out. Last week she totaled my mom's SUV. I tried to get her driving lessons, but no one will teach a cat for some reason. It's probably better just to keep her from getting behind the wheel."

"I definitely agree," Rachel nodded, giggling happily as they walked to class together.

….

As the week went by, the scandal of the three top cheerleaders defecting died down, and Rachel was happy to see her predictions coming true—no slushies came their way, and after a post on Jacob Ben-Israel's blog confirmed to the world that their leaving the team was due to Sue trying to fire them out of a cannon without proper safety equipment, training, or consent, the whole student body seemed to have plenty of sympathy for the much-abused ex-cheerleaders.

The lack of backlash seemed to cheer Quinn up a bit; she was still moping around somewhat, but it was a little less each day, and Rachel knew she'd find her footing again soon enough. Santana, on the other hand, seemed in danger of going over the deep end. She didn't want sympathy—she wanted to be worshipped and feared, just like before. If being a star cheerleader wasn't going to provide that anymore, it seemed that brute intimidation was going to have to suffice. Rachel did her best to just stay out of the furious Latina's way, but that wasn't exactly a long-term solution—and Santana's wrath was even spilling into glee, where they really needed to be able to trust each other as they started preparing for Regionals.

"Mr. Schue? I have something I wanna say." Finn hopped enthusiastically out of his seat in the choir room as they were all settling in for rehearsal.

"Sure Finn," Mr. Schuester nodded absently. "What's on your mind?"

"Have you guys all noticed that this is the first time ever that a whole week has gone by, any not one of us has been slushied?" He grinned broadly, as if it were his sole accomplishment; but they all cheered anyway. It was true, after all—even in the wake of the Cheerios' scandal, they had obviously racked up some serious street cred with their halftime performance at the big game.

"Well, I think my leading the football team to our first championship win might have had a little something to do with that," Finn continued, making them all stop clapping and frown, miffed that he was taking all the credit. "Anyway, I'm the closest thing this school has to a celebrity right now, and I wanna use that celebrity to benefit glee club. What do you guys think about having a glee-sponsored kissing booth for Valentine's Day? We can all take shifts, so it'll be open all day long; we charge $5 a kiss, and all the money goes towards our trip to Nationals!" A collective groan filled the room.

"Oh, please," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Don't be frontin' like you care about raising money for glee. You just wanna kiss a bunch of girls."

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Brittany shrugged. "We can do both."

"I don't have to kiss girls, do I?" Kurt asked warily.

"It _is_ kind of a good idea," Artie agreed, pushing his glasses up his nose and grinning sheepishly. "We've never been collectively cooler than we are right now—why not cash in while we can? Trips to New York City aren't cheap." As they all fell into discussion on the merits of holding a glee kissing booth, Rachel slipped out of her seat and circled around to Brittany, and the two began whispering in the corner about how this plan might affect their Valentine's Day surprise plans for their girlfriends.

Quinn, busy talking to Kurt and Mercedes about what kind of lip balm would best prepare them all for a full day of puckering up, didn't notice her girlfriend slip away; but Santana did. She narrowed her eyes furiously at the tall blonde and the tiny brunette, watching their eager expressions as they whispered to each other, sitting very close with their knees touching, and occasionally grabbing each other's hands. Seeing red, the furious girl jumped out of her seat and stormed from the room without saying a word.

They spent the rest of rehearsal that day preparing the kissing booth, and the next morning, Rachel and Mike Chang were standing behind it, minty fresh and ready to take the first shift. They were both more than a little surprised to see how long the lines were already—the schedule of when each glee member would be working had been posted the day before, and Mike and Rachel had both volunteered for the first shift specifically because they didn't think anyone (besides their girlfriends, of course) would want to kiss them anyway, and they might as well just get it over with quickly.

"I didn't realize how kissable we were," Rachel joked to Mike, applying an extra coat of lip balm as the first football stud approached her, grinning from ear to ear.

"For real," Mike agreed, spraying an extra squirt of Binaca into his mouth and waggling his eyebrows at the shyly smiling Cheerio who was at the front of his line. "Who'd have thought that the quiet, skinny Asian kid and the pint-sized, loud-mouthed glee diva would end up dating two of the coolest girls in school?"

"We are _living large_, I believe is the term," Rachel nodded cheerfully, leaning across the table to take the $5 bill from her first customer, and give him his kiss—just a quick peck on the lips. She figured that $5 deserved more than a kiss on the cheek; that is unless Jacob Ben-Israel showed up, in which case she had specifically prepared a sign stating that the management reserved the right to refuse service for any reason.

A little more than halfway through their slot, Rachel and Mike were having a pretty good time. Rachel was surprised to find more than a few girls mixed into her line along with the boys; and it made her happy to think that maybe she and Quinn, along with Kurt, Brittany and Santana, had inadvertently helped the (very small, mostly closeted) LGBT population of McKinley, by showing them that being out at school wasn't necessarily a social death sentence. She'd have to remember to tell her dads about this later.

While she was pondering this, Santana marched up to her, pushing her way past everyone else in line. Rachel assumed she'd come to yell at her about something—the girl had that tell-tale predatory look in her eyes—but to her surprise, Santana merely slapped down a $5 bill on the table, grabbed Rachel by the back of her neck, and proceeded to kiss her deeply and thoroughly.

"Santana!" Rachel balked, jumping back from the kiss as soon as she regained her bearings from the shock of being kissed (rather well, if she had to admit it) by her girlfriend's best friend. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry, chica. Just couldn't help myself. I wanted to see what Q's always going on about." Smirking devilishly, Santana brushed one finger across her bottom lip. "Gotta say, Berry—you're a damn good kisser." And with a little wink, she waltzed away, leaving a very confused, deeply blushing Rachel in her wake.

"What was _that_ about?" Quinn asked bemusedly, raising one eyebrow as she approached the booth from behind, ready to take her turn and relieve Rachel from her kissing duties.

"Santana kissed me," Rachel said dazedly, still looking slightly shell-shocked. "Like, _really_ kissed me. Like her tongue was in my mouth." Quinn's eyebrow shot up considerably higher.

"And what did _you_ do?" the blonde girl asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"I pushed her away, of course," Rachel replied with a roll of her eyes, slightly offended that Quinn had to ask.

"Was it good?" Quinn asked, looking slightly more intrigued now.

"Dude, do _not_ answer that," Mike whispered harshly, shaking his head at her seriously. Quinn smirked and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not mad, Rach. I actually saw the whole thing—she grabbed you, she kissed you, and you pushed her away. You didn't do anything wrong. I just wondered whether you'd be honest with me about it…and you were. That's very, very noble. I think you deserve a reward…" Wiggling her eyebrows, Quinn wrapped both arms around her girlfriend's hips and leaned in to kiss her, even more deeply and more thoroughly than Santana had. Rachel sighed happily, relaxing into her first purely recreational kiss of the day. Only the enthusiastic hooting and hollering of the people on line broke them apart, smiling shyly as their audience clapped and called for an encore.

"Rachel Barbara Berry, you are turning me into an exhibitionist," Quinn smirked, shaking her head.

"I prefer to think that I'm providing you room to grow," Rachel winked, reaching out and fixing Quinn's smudged lipstick with her thumb. "If you grow into being an exhibitionist, well…I can live with that." Quinn giggled, and watched the girl she loved walk away before turning back to her customers, ready to make some money for glee.

…..

Eight hours later, they gathered back in the choir room for their usual glee rehearsal, all looking extremely pleased with themselves. All told, they'd raised over fifteen hundred dollars for Nationals, and they'd all gotten to feel pretty studly in the process, reinforcing the victorious feeling they'd had as a club since their triumphant halftime performance. Santana, however, was not interested in any of this. She was watching her girlfriend like a hawk, looking for any telltale sign of illness or fatigue. But Brittany was her usual bouncy self; she babbled unselfconsciously about how much fun it had been to get paid for kisses, wondering whether she should do it again sometime to raise money for her cat to get a new BMX bike.

Santana glanced in confusion from Brittany over to Rachel, who was sitting behind them with her head in her hand. _She_ certainly looked sick; her face glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes were barely open, and she kept wincing and feeling her glands. Santana frowned in confusion—she had been sure this plan would work. How had _Brittany_ outsmarted her? Seriously, it just didn't make sense.

Then Santana saw Quinn trudge into the choir room, looking like she barely had the energy to lift her feet. She was so pale, her skin had an almost ashen tinge to it; and she kept blinking and rubbing her eyes, like it was the only way she could keep them open. "Aw, crap," Santana muttered under her breath.

"Okay guys, I have to say, I am really impressed with the way you all banded together on this kissing booth fundraiser," Mr. Schue said approvingly, waving the huge stack of cash in front of them. Everyone cheered loudly (except for Rachel and Quinn, who winced at the noise, both rubbing their foreheads). "Now, let's get back to business—Regionals are right around the corner. Rachel, I believe you had something prepared for today?"

"I don't think I can sing today, Mr. Schue," Rachel shook her head weakly. "I don't feel so good."

"Me either," Quinn agreed miserably, still rubbing one side of her head. "I feel sick. I think we need to go to the nurse."

"Shit," Santana hissed under her breath again; but this time, Brittany heard her.

"What's the matter?" The tall blonde girl asked sweetly, stroking back a lock of Santana's hair.

"I, uh…fuck…I'm sorry, Q." All eyes were on the stammering Latina now, totally confused and intrigued by her uncharacteristic expression of worry and regret.

"What do you mean? Did you make me sick?" Quinn joked weakly, coughing into her elbow.

"Well…" Santana's voice wavered, and she held Quinn's gaze, biting her lip anxiously. Quinn frowned in confusion.

"Is that why you kissed me?" Rachel asked, blinking slowly as she wiped her sweaty forehead on the back of her arm. "To give me sick cooties?" Santana's mortified expression was answer enough.

"What on earth would possess you to _do_ something like that, Santana? Let alone to your friends," Kurt exclaimed shrilly, crossing both arms and legs as he glared at her. "And in the midst of a kissing booth? You could've diseased half the school in one day!"

"Oh _please_, like these two are giving anyone else tongue," Santana snorted dismissively. When the entire room continued to glare at her, she scowled and rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry okay! I just thought—fuck"— she shook her head, obviously reticent to admit her reason for "borrowing" the germs from the nurse's office and passing them along to her friends. "I thought B and Thumbelina were messing around behind our backs, okay? I just wanted to call them out. So I kissed a kid in the nurse's office with mono, and…"

"You gave us _mono?_ On purpose?" Quinn asked dazedly, sharing an utterly bewildered glance with her girlfriend.

"No, not you! Just Rachel," Santana shrugged. In the back of her fever-fogged mind, Rachel noted that it was the first time ever that Santana had actually used her first name; it was a testament to how flustered the girl was. Not that that made Rachel want to forgive her anytime soon. "She was supposed to give it to Britt, and then we'd both know they were cheaters. I was kind of sort of trying to protect you, you know," Santana shrugged helplessly.

"You thought I was cheating? Why?" Brittany asked, her voice small and sad as she blinked her big blue eyes at Santana in confusion.

"Because you've been sneaking off with the Keebler Elf all week!" Santana exclaimed defensively. "All of a sudden you're whispering together, running off together, smiling at each other…what the hell was I _supposed_ to think?" Brittany looked over at Rachel, who gave her a weary shrug.

"You may as well tell her, Britt," Rachel sighed, laying her head wearily on Quinn's shoulder. "It's ruined now, anyway." Brittany nodded, turning sadly back to her girlfriend.

"The two of _us_ were planning a Valentine's Day surprise date for the two of _you_," she explained in a small, soft voice. "We wanted to cheer you up about not being Cheerios anymore. That's what we've been talking about all week." Santana's expression was horrified. For a moment, no one spoke.

"Okay, well…this has been fun…thanks a lot, San," Quinn sighed, standing shakily and offering her hand to her girlfriend. "C'mon Rach, we need to_…*sniff!*…_uhh, we need to go see the nurse."

"Q, I'm sorry," Santana said again, grabbing the blonde girl's hand to keep her where she was. "I _really_ thought they were screwing around on us."

"And you thought that biological warfare was an appropriate response?" Kurt asked dryly. For once, Santana ignored the jab, keeping her eyes on her friends, begging their forgiveness.

"Jesus, Santana," Quinn sighed, closing her eyes. "Are you really this insecure?" With that, the blonde girl pulled her hand back, reaching out for her girlfriend, who was also getting woozily to her feet. They knew that the glee drama would continue without them; but they were hugely relieved not to have to sit through it anymore, dragging themselves sluggishly down the hall to the nurse's office.

…..

"Well it looks like mono to me," the nurse confirmed unnecessarily as she stepped through the curtain, to the back room where Quinn and Rachel were curled up together on one of the hard, uncomfortable cots, already half-asleep. "Your parents are on their way to"—the nurse stopped short when she saw them cuddling on a single cot. "Oh, no no, I'm sorry kids. Just because you're sick doesn't mean there are no rules. It's one student per cot in here; one of you needs to move." Quinn opened her eyes a crack, blinking up incredulously at the no-nonsense expression on the nurse's face; Rachel whined miserably.

"Oh, for the love of _God_," the dark-haired girl groaned, blinking up woozily at the nurse without lifting her head from Quinn's shoulder. "Does it look like…we have the energy to fool around? We just_…*sniff!*…_want to sleep. _Please_." Rachel's eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked a little, making her look extra-pathetic without even trying. Though she could cry on command when called for, she wasn't acting now—she really was that miserable. The nurse sighed and pursed her lips.

"Well…just this once. No hanky-panky back here, or I _will_ separate you. Your parents will be here soon."

"Thank you," Quinn murmured gratefully, letting her eyes fall shut again. She didn't see the nurse's reluctant smile as she shook her head and walked out of the room.

"Looks like we'll be…doing exactly what we did on Valentine's Day last year," Rachel yawned, rubbing her thumb over Quinn's bellybutton—she was too sick and exhausted to manage anything else.

"Lying on the couch all day…drinking miso soup…and watching movies? Doesn't sound…so bad." Quinn murmured sleepily, then cupped a hand to her mouth to cover a rattling cough. "Ughhh. Santana is such a bitch."

"She has…some serious issues," Rachel agreed, with another yawn. They were both so bleary, they could barely manage to get out full sentences. "I'm really sorry…your surprise was ruined, though."

"S'okay," Quinn sighed, her heavy eyes sliding shut as she nuzzled a little closer to Rachel, shivering slightly. "Don't care what we do…as long as I'm with you…" Rachel giggled woozily.

"You rhymed," the dark-haired girl murmured sleepily. "You're a poet, and you didn't know it."

"Mm-hmm," Quinn mumbled. The next time the nurse came back to check on them, they were both fast asleep, curled up with the casual intimacy of two people who are used to falling asleep together. The nurse rolled her eyes, but grinned a little, throwing a blanket over their feverish bodies and waiting for their parents to come take them home.


	37. How to Stop Being a Bitch

Hello lovely readers,

Sorry for the long-ish delay on this chap! I was sick for a few weeks (no, it wasn't mono, haha), and it just sucked every creative impulse right out of me. But I am feeling much better now! Hope you'll all enjoy this super-fluffy chapter :)

-JW

…

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 37**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Hey sweetheart, are you up for a visitor?" Rachel's daddy stood in the doorway of the living room, holding a tray with afternoon tea for his two patients. A nervous-looking Santana stood stiffly at his elbow, chewing her lip and staring fixedly at her shoes. "Santana swears she's already had mono, so I let her in. I figured you'd appreciate some news from the outside world." Michael's warm smile at their visitor made it painfully obvious that he had no idea that it was her fault Rachel and Quinn were sick. Santana swallowed uncomfortably and stared at the floor, suddenly feeling a little nauseous. She'd been sure they would rat her out…but somehow, knowing they hadn't, it didn't make her feel any better. It was almost worse.

"Hello, Santana," Rachel said dully, sitting up a little straighter under the pile of blankets bundled around her on the couch. Michael came over and set his tray down on the coffee table, oblivious to the tension in the air, and gave his daughter a smile as he leaned over her and felt her forehead.

"You drink this before it gets cold," he gently instructed, kissing her cheek.

"Thanks, Daddy," Rachel smiled weakly. Michael winked at her, then glanced at Quinn, dead asleep at the other end of the couch, and went to feel her forehead, too.

"Poor kid," he sighed, picking up the fresh ice pack lying on the tea tray and pressing it gently to her hot forehead. "Make sure she has something to drink when she wakes up, okay princess? If she doesn't want the tea, just call me, and I'll bring her something else- we just need to keep her hydrated till the fever breaks."

"'Kay," Rachel nodded sleepily, with another small smile for her daddy as he ruffled her hair and walked back towards the kitchen. Santana stood awkwardly in the middle of the Berrys' living room, avoiding eye contact as she fidgeted with the DVD case in her hands.

"So, um...no one in glee has spoken to me for a week. Not even B." Rachel put down her magazine and glared silently, in no rush to alleviate Santana's discomfort. "Geez, Berry. The one time I want you to let me have it, you're just gonna sit there and not say a word?" Quinn sighed in her sleep and nuzzled up to the stuffed monster in her arms, completely oblivious to the entire confrontation.

"What do you want, Santana?" Rachel groaned wearily, sitting up a little and rubbing her eyes. "I'm not really up for a verbal sparring match right now."

"I- Nothing. I just came to give you this recording of the new number we've been working on in glee this week...Mr. Schue wants to use it for Regionals. I figured you'd want a chance to see it as soon as possible. And, um, I don't know if you knew, tomorrow's the last day to register for AP exams. I know Q was planning to take some, so I got the form for her and filled it out as much as I could. She just has to enter the subjects she wants, and sign it. I got one for you, too, just in case." Santana pulled the forms out of her backpack and held them awkwardly out to Rachel, along with the homemade DVD.

"Fine. Thanks. Just leave them on the coffee table." Santana nodded mutely, dropping the offerings on the table and clasping her hands like a child waiting for her punishment. Rachel grumbled and wiped her nose on a crumpled tissue.

"So, um...are you feeling any better?"

"A little," Rachel sighed wearily. "Quinn isn't, though. Her fever's so high, she can barely make it from the couch to the bathroom on her own."

"I'm really sorry, Rachel," Santana said quietly, sitting on the edge of the ottoman and staring down miserably at her knees. "I know I fucked everything up..." The obvious sincerity in the usually gruff Latina's voice made Rachel look up in surprise, to see tears welling up in the other girl's dark eyes. Santana was not one for apologies- Rachel could think of only one other time she'd ever heard the girl say the words _I'm sorry_, and that had been for slapping Quinn across the face on the first day of school. And even then, she'd basically still yelled at them while she was apologizing. She'd certainly never apologized directly to Rachel before.

"Yeah, you did," Rachel agreed with a sigh, studying the lines of regret etched into the other girl's face. "But at least you've admitted it. I don't think I ever really understood how insecure you were, underneath all the audacity and bravado. But saying out loud that you did something wrong means you're willing to accept some responsibility for once…so that's a start." Santana frowned, looking like she wanted to retort; but she bit it back, and just nodded uncomfortably.

"So…you forgive me?"

"Provisionally," Rachel agreed, with a squeak of alarm as she found herself suddenly enveloped in a rib-cracking hug. "Ow! Santana, take it easy!"

"Oh, um…sorry." Santana grinned sheepishly. Quinn whimpered and opened her eyes, roused by the sudden jolt of activity on the couch.

"Hi sleepyhead," Rachel cooed, and Quinn grinned woozily at the sound of her girlfriend's voice.

"Hmm…hey baby," she yawned, blinking blearily.

"Hi Q," Santana said gently, shocking Rachel again by reaching out and stroking a lock of sweat-dampened hair back behind the blonde girl's ear. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," Quinn sighed woozily. "My head hurts…" With another soft whimper, Quinn pressed a hand to her head, accidentally knocking the ice pack to the floor. Santana bent down and retrieved it, gently pressing it back to the blonde girl's sweaty forehead.

"Don't touch," the Latina warned sternly, pulling Quinn's hand back down and pulling the blankets snugly up to her chin. "You need to leave that ice pack where it is, Q. It'll make you feel better."

"'Kay," Quinn murmured, her eyes glassy and fever-bright as she looked up at Santana in confusion. "Why are you here?"

"I, um…just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, Q. I wish I could take back what I did…I really do."

"Mm-hmm…I know," Quinn sighed, patting Santana's hand absently. "S'okay, San…you just need to_…*sniff*…_start trusting people. Y'know? You just…have to." Santana chuckled a little at Quinn's sleepy wisdom, and smiled sadly.

"I'll try, okay?" She sounded like she meant it.

"You know this doesn't really count, right?" Rachel said sternly. Santana frowned at her in confusion.

"What doesn't count?"

"Quinn forgiving you. You have to apologize to her again when she's lucid, and not running a fever of a hundred and three. She'd forgive Hitler for the Third Reich right now."

"A hundred and three?" Santana repeated, looking horrified. Rachel just glared at her, letting the other girl stew in her own regret for a minute.

"I can hear you, you know," Quinn mumbled, rubbing her nose sleepily with her eyes closed. "Don't be mean, Rach…she's trying." Rachel grumbled, obviously unwilling to argue with her girlfriend in this state, and Santana tried her best not to look too smug about it.

"Quinn, honey, can you drink some of this tea for me?" Rachel asked, sitting up slightly from her end of the couch to reach for Quinn's tea on the coffee table. But she was still woozy and exhausted, and halfway there she fell back again dizzily. "Uhh, fuck…"

"I got it," Santana jumped in immediately, picking up the tea and offering it to the sleepy blonde girl.

"No more tea," Quinn grumbled, opening her eyes a crack and then closing them again.

"How about something else, then? I can get it for you," Santana offered anxiously. Rachel blinked bemusedly, with a weary smirk at the other girl's uncharacteristic helpfulness. She had to admit, Santana was doing the one thing that Rachel couldn't ignore: being nice to Quinn. The woozy blonde girl in question groaned and opened her eyes again, just a crack.

"Ginger ale," she murmured drowsily.

"Great! Coming right up." Santana practically bounded off the couch with her sudden enthusiasm for ginger ale. As soon as she was out of the room, Rachel sat up unsteadily and crawled to Quinn's end of the couch, cuddling up to her girlfriend's overheated body and dropping a few kisses on her cheek.

"I missed you at the other end of the couch," Rachel murmured, drawing a contented sigh from the sleepy blonde girl.

"Stay here," Quinn mumbled back, slipping one hand up the back of Rachel's pajama top and splaying out her fingers against the smaller girl's warm back. "I feel better when I'm touching you…"

"Then I'll never move again," Rachel yawned, closing her eyes. When Santana came back from the kitchen, she found them still cuddled up like that, looking like they were both asleep. She thought about just leaving the ginger ale for Quinn to find when she woke up…but then she thought about Rachel's father telling them not to let the feverish blonde girl get dehydrated, and she gently reached out and shook her friend's arm, hoping she wasn't really asleep.

"Hey, you awake Q? I got some nice cold ginger ale for you, with a bendy straw and everything." Santana kept her voice low, but apparently Quinn really wasn't asleep, because her eyes cracked open immediately. Rachel just mumbled something about being late for an audition, and twitched a little, obviously dead to the world. Santana smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, San," Quinn murmured, reaching weakly for the drink. Santana didn't really trust her shaky grip, so she kept one hand on the glass, letting Quinn focus on just getting the straw in her mouth.

"Aw, c'mon Q, you can drink more than that," Santana cajoled when Quinn gave up after a couple of sips. The blonde girl frowned sleepily, but took the straw back, and slowly drank until the glass was half empty.

"I wish…you were like this all the time," Quinn sighed when Santana put her glass down on the coffee table. "Are you gonna be a bitch again…when I come back to school?" She asked it so simply, with no judgment or expectation, that Santana couldn't help but answer honestly.

"I don't know, Q. I'm gonna try to be better, okay? But you know it's not something I can just change overnight…it's gonna take some time."

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed absently, closing her eyes again and snaking her hand back under Rachel's shirt. "I know. It was hard for me, too…hard to stop being mad at the world."

"How did you?" Santana asked, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "How did you even start?" Quinn opened her eyes, and smiled serenely, lightly stroking her sleeping girlfriend's back under her shirt.

"Rachel," she said simply. "She just kept showing me that she loved me…no matter how much I tried to push her away…until I just didn't want to anymore. She made me feel safe." Santana nodded sadly, but didn't say anything. "Britt will forgive you," Quinn said after a minute. "She loves you, San…you just have to let her."

Santana sat with Quinn for a few more minutes, until she was sure the blonde girl was asleep; then she pulled the blankets up securely around both of her sleeping friends, and left the ginger ale within easy reach on the coffee table. Then she went to say goodbye to Rachel's fathers in the kitchen, resisting the impulse to sneer or flip them off when they offered her dinner. Instead she gave them what she hoped was a polite smile, and explained that she had somewhere else she had to be. She just hoped, and she left for Brittany's house, that Quinn was as secretly-smart about relationships as she was on standardized tests.


	38. Pezberry

Hey gleeks!

This chapter is a bit of a shorty, but I figured you'd rather have it now than wait another week till I have time to make it longer…yes? Plus, I think you'll enjoy some surprising new alliances here! Have fun :)

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 38**

**By JewWitch**

…

"No, no, _no_," Rachel groaned exasperatedly, hands on her hips as she surveyed the rest of the glee club rolling their eyes at her around the choir room. "This is simply unacceptable. I leave you alone for one little week, and suddenly you've all decided to embrace mediocrity? I'm as much a fan of My Chemical Romance as the next person, but that song just is _not_ good enough to win Regionals!"

"You mean, because we didn't hang around here like a bunch of useless extras waiting for you to come back and sing the lead?" Mercedes huffed, rolling her eyes at Tina, who shrugged in uneasy agreement.

"Look, this isn't about me," Rachel shook her head, frowning as she looked around the room and saw the same dismissive expression on all their faces. "This is about all of us. That song just doesn't showcase what we can really do, and it simply isn't good enough to beat The Warblers or Vocal Adrenalin. Do you all want to lose this thing? We need something fresh, something they've never seen before, something that will blow the judges completely away…we need to perform our own original number."

"Thank you for your input, Rachel, but unfortunately this decision has already been made. I realize you're disappointed, but Mercedes is right—we couldn't just wait around for you, Regionals is only two weeks away." Mr. Schue leveled her with his standard, patronized toddler look as he handed her a pile of sheet music.

"I wasn't on _vacation!_ I had mono," Rachel squeaked indignantly, glaring at Santana, who sighed grudgingly and crossed her arms. "And once again, I am trying to tell you that this really and truly is not about me. You don't want to give me a solo? Fine, give it to someone else. But we need a better song, guys. For _all_ our sakes!"

When they all ignored her and took out their sheet music to practice their utterly mediocre song, Rachel sighed in defeat and sat down, scowling. She was _not_ about to sit back and watch them lose Regionals, not after they'd gotten so close last year and then missed their chance to perform when Quinn went into labor practically on stage. Not that she was blaming her poor girlfriend for that, of course—but she couldn't stand the idea of them missing their chance again; not now. If they lost, it should be because someone else was _actually_ better, not because they didn't go all-out.

Rachel alternated between sulking and scheming for the rest of rehearsal, so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Santana approaching her as everyone else was filing out.

"What up, Shortcake," the Latina nudged her foot while she was busy cramming her sheet music into her bag. "Good to have you back in glee yelling at us again, it was really boring without you. Q feeling better?" Rachel looked up huffily, ready to give another curt reply; but softened when she saw the honest concern in the other girl's eyes.

"Yes, she's much better, though she's still got a bit of a fever. I think she should be back by the end of the week, with plenty of time to learn this atrocious song for Regionals." Rachel sighed, and Santana scowled.

"Look, you're not really gonna roll over and take it lying down, are you? Cause, you know, I actually think you're right this time." Rachel's jaw hung open for a second in stunned disbelief, before she jumped indignantly to her feet.

"Why didn't you say something, Santana? I could've used a little backup! In case you hadn't noticed, my opinion has been summarily rejected." Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, like me backing you up would really help you right now," Santana snorted, rolling her eyes and kicking absently at the floor with the toe of her sneaker. "In case _you_ hadn't noticed, I'm still persona non grata around here. I don't think my endorsement is gonna boost your ratings this week, y'know?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, giving the taller girl a slow, measured glance, her eyes softening a little.

"Brittany still isn't speaking to you?"

"No, she is…barely. It's like she's there, but she isn't. And I don't know what else to do, Rachel—I can't _make_ her love me again. Usually when people don't do what I want, I just kick their ass. Take that off the table, and I don't really know what's left." Without really noticing, the two girls fell into step together, slinging their backpacks over their shoulders as they headed out to the student parking lot.

"Well, there is the obvious and mandatory apology."

"Yeah, thanks Dr. Ruth, I tried that already."

"Glad to hear it—I suppose you weren't raised in a cave by wolves, after all."

"Only part-time. The wolves have joint custody." Rachel giggled and glanced up at Santana, slightly unnerved by the sudden congenial rapport between them.

"You're not trying to lull me into a false sense of security for some horrific new prank, are you? Am I about to get slushied with Ebola?" She tried to say it jokingly, but Santana looked a little hurt as she crossed her arms huffily.

"Whatever, Berry. I may be desperate, but I don't _have_ to talk to you—just trying out that whole, trusting people thing. I figure if Q can do it, I at least have a fighting chance…and I _will_ punch you in the face if you tell anyone I said this, but…you seem like a pretty trustworthy person."

"Oh…well…thank you."

"No big," Santana shrugged. Then she gestured to her car, and asked gruffly, "So do you want a ride, or what?" Rachel just nodded, too stunned to speak.

…

"All right," the tiny brunette sighed when they were on the road to her house. "You've tried apologizing, flowers, chocolates, and stuffed animals, and Britt still won't forgive you?"

"She said she did, but…I just don't feel like she really means it. She barely looks at me anymore, and…well…" The Latina shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel. Rachel glanced across the seat and raised an eyebrow.

"What? Just spit it out, Santana."

"I can't make her come, okay? And believe me when I say this is _not_ a problem we've ever had before. It's like she's all locked up inside, and she just can't let herself go." Santana scowled at the road, and Rachel tried her best not to giggle at the despondent look on her…_friend's?_...face.

"Well, well, well…"

"Do _not_ think I can't punch you out and drive at the same time, Shortcake."

"I'm quite sure you can, but if you can manage to restrain yourself, I think I might be able to assist you in your quest to win Brittany's forgiveness." Santana glanced across the seat, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm listening."

"You have to sing to her, silly. In front of the glee club. That will show her you're willing to risk your own comfort and security for hers…and, you know, it's quite romantic." Santana's dark skin paled in an instant, but she nodded bravely.

"I…could be down with that. If you'll help me with the arrangement."

"Not a problem. See how much better things are when you trust people?" Rachel beamed, and impulsively, leaned over and kissed Santana on the cheek. Instead of responding with violence, Santana grinned sheepishly and blushed bright red.

Rachel was still smiling when she arrived home, to find Quinn curled up on the couch in her pajamas, diligently doing her homework now that she was feeling better. Their parents had collectively decided it was in everyone's best interest for Quinn to stay with Rachel while they both had mono, as much because Rachel had a doctor for a father as because of Judy's harried work schedule, which wouldn't have allowed her to stay home with Quinn anyway. And it wasn't as if the two Mr. Berrys were arguing the point—they'd been thinking of Quinn as their second daughter for over a year already, and tended to become wildly protective of her whenever she was the slightest bit under the weather. Rachel never said anything about this to Quinn directly, but she definitely noticed the blonde girl soaking up the fatherly affection she had never really gotten from her own no-good drunk of a dad; and it made the little diva all warm and fuzzy inside to know that her girlfriend really was a part of their family, no matter what.

"There's my sweet sunshine girl," Rachel cooed, kicking off her shoes and curling up on the couch with her girlfriend, planting a few soft kisses all over her face. "Feeling any better, hmm baby?"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded, closing her eyes to bask briefly in Rachel's affections. "No more headache, no more sore throat…I'm just kind of sleepy now. I think I might just need one more really good power-nap."

"Hmm, well, we'll see what Daddy thinks," Rachel frowned, smoothing a soft lock of blonde hair back from Quinn's face and kissing her forehead. "You still feel a little feverish to me…but I _am_ glad you're feeling better."

"Me too," Quinn agreed with a yawn. "How was school? Anything terribly interesting happen without us?"

"You mean, besides glee club picking the most average, ordinary, run of the mill song available for Regionals, and defending it with Sue Sylvester-like religious zeal?" Rachel snorted, her fingers playing absently through Quinn's loose hair. "Not particularly."

"Aww, Rach…I'm sorry I wasn't there to back you up today. I would've used my HBIC death-ray stare to scare some sense into them. I really don't know what they're thinking, honestly."

"It's okay, angel," Rachel smiled softly, cuddling up a little closer to her girlfriend and putting her head down on the blonde girl's shoulder. "I more or less knew they'd be like this…and I did at least get one person on my side. The rest won't listen until I write the damn song and shove it down their throats."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Santana." Rachel's head fell off Quinn's shoulder with a _thunk_ as the blonde girl sat bolt upright in shock, her hazel eyes wide and incredulous.

"I'm sorry, maybe I _am_ still delirious…did you say _Santana_ took your side?"

"Yes, dear," Rachel smirked, enjoying Quinn's utterly stunned expression. "Not only that, she's started giving me a new set of non-insulting nicknames that might even be construed as affectionate…_and_ she gave me a ride home after practice, during which she asked my advice about her love life."

"No _way_," Quinn muttered, rubbing her eyes as if to clear the insane hallucination of a friendly, confiding Santana from her head.

"Way," Rachel confirmed, still grinning with obvious pleasure. "And I really, _really_ hope you'll be back in school by Friday to see what she's going to do next."

"Oh, I'll be there," Quinn nodded, wide-eyed and smiling. "If I have to drink nothing but Emergen-C for the next three days, I am _not_ gonna miss this."

"Good," Rachel grinned, taking Quinn's math notes from her lap and putting them aside on the coffee table. "Because I need you to help me write a hit song for Regionals, too."


	39. Candles

Hey guys!

So normally I don't think reviews are all that important to me…but I guess that's because I usually get a decent number. Last chap hardly got a response. Are y'all still out there? Please let me know if you're still reading and want me to continue! Thx :)

Slight spoilers here for episode 2x16, "Original Song," though of course it's still pretty much AU—though for the first time, there was so much Faberry interaction in this ep that the AU version isn't really _all that_ different from the actual episode. I hope this will be as cathartic for you guys as it was for me! Also, for the purposes of this story, I have made "Candles" Rachel's original song (was I the only one who thought it made more sense as a breakup/independence song than as a new-relationship song…?) "Candles" is property of the group Hey Monday; and Glee, as always, is property of Ryan Murphy and not me. Sad but true!

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 39**

**By JewWitch**

…

When Santana finished singing Landslide to Brittany, with honest-to-god tears sliding down her cheeks, the entire glee club burst into frenzied applause; but the Latina barely seemed to notice. Her gaze was glued to Brittany alone. While Santana wiped her eyes, the blonde in question stood up from her seat and walked across the room to where Santana was standing in front of everyone, and asked quietly, "Is that really how you feel?"

"Yeah," Santana sniffed softly, with a small, achingly vulnerable smile. Brittany smiled back, and wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, kissing her for all she was worth. A loud hoot of encouragement erupted, mostly from the boys, while the girls and Kurt clapped and bounced in their seats, in more of a yay-our-friends-are-happy-again way than a yay-free-porn way. (Except for Lauren Zizes; pretty much everything was free porn to her).

"Thank you, Santana, that was beautiful," Mr. Schue said as he reclaimed all their attention, and the two ex-Cheerios returned to their seats, smiling doe-eyed at each other and holding hands. "I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings after that performance, but I have to give you guys some bad news. We can't use the My Chemical Romance song for Regionals after all." There was a general uproar as Mr. Schue held up his hand for order, waving a piece of paper in the air. "I know you're all upset—but Sue has been up to her old tricks again, and as a result, I am now holding a cease and desist order from the band. We don't have a choice, guys."

"Well that's just great. Regionals is in a week. What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Puck complained.

"I say we write our own original songs," Rachel piped up, and predictably, half the club immediately groaned and rolled their eyes.

"All those in favor of voting Rachel down a second time?" Mercedes shot back, her hand already in the air. More than six hands flew up instantly.

"I think Rachel's right," Quinn piped up, frowning at the pessimistic expressions of her teammates. "This team works best when we push ourselves and try new things. It keeps us fresh, and loose, and it always brings out the best in us."

"Yeah, that may be true," Mercedes agreed hesitantly, "but if all the other teams are doing amazing songs…we're not gonna be so good."

"You're right," Santana agreed, nodding to Mercedes. "We won't be as good." Rachel glanced back at the Latina, disappointment swimming in her big brown eyes. Once again, she'd taken a chance and offered her friendship, only to feel like a complete fool now for expecting Santana to back her up when it counts.

"We're going to be _better_," Santana continued. Rachel's jaw dropped in shock. "We won't be using other peoples' words or music," the Latina shrugged, glancing around the room and making eye contact with all of her teammates. "It'll be our own. Our own heart and soul." There was a brief, stunned silence.

"I wholeheartedly concur," Kurt announced with a flourish, giving Rachel a tiny but theatrical wink. The little diva blushed and smiled shyly, completely unprepared for the show of support.

"I'm with the rainbow train," Puck shrugged. "If those divas can all agree on something, it's probably an idea we don't want to pass up."

"What do you think, Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked uncertainly.

"I think…we're doing original songs for Regionals," the Spanish teacher grinned. Rachel beamed, while everyone else cheered and patted her on the back. As they all got up to break into small groups for their first songwriting workshop, Rachel turned and flashed her biggest gold star grin at Santana, feeling slightly guilty for assuming the Latina would tear her down again. Santana grinned back, and gave her a little wink. Quinn glanced up just in time to notice this exchange, and tried to push back the hot stab of jealousy that erupted from the pit of her stomach.

By the end of the rehearsal, most of the groups had a first draft of something to share the following day; but Quinn and Rachel couldn't get past the hook, and just bickered over the lyrics. At the end of two hours, they had nothing to show. With her typical stubborn zeal, Rachel stood up while everyone else was packing up to go home and informed Quinn that they were not leaving without an outline and at least one verse to present to the group, and that she'd see her in the auditorium in five minutes to continue their work. Rachel marched out of the choir room purposefully, while Puck, Lauren and Artie all sniggered at Quinn's crestfallen expression, coughing the word _*whipped!*_ into their hands.

"Shut _up_, morons," Quinn snapped, glaring at them as she grabbed her stuff and prepared to follow Rachel to the auditorium. The anxious, twisty feeling in her stomach had grown slowly but surely all through the afternoon, making her cranky and short-tempered with her friends.

"Aw, lighten up baby mama. I thought you liked being on Berry's leash? Maybe if you wag your tail she'll buy you a new chew toy." Puck smirked indolently, obviously hamming it up for Lauren, who was sniggering appreciatively. Quinn gritted her teeth, marched across the room, and kicked him in the shins. "Ow! What the hell?" Puck complained, rubbing his sore leg, but Quinn had already turned and stomped out of the room without a word.

"We need to talk," Quinn announced flatly when she found Rachel sitting at the piano in the auditorium, playing random notes and scribbling in her notebook. "I can't do this, Rach."

"Can't do what?" Rachel asked, blinking innocently.

"Write a song. It's too much pressure and I'm just no good at it, okay? I know you wanted us to do this together, but I'm just holding you back and we both know it. I'm okay as a performer, but I'm _not_ a composer. Just write the song yourself, okay?"

"It's perfectly understandable to have some first-time jitters, Quinn," Rachel replied soothingly, standing up from the piano bench and squeezing her girlfriend's shaky hands. "Perhaps we should take a short break to do some breathing and visualization exercises before"—but Quinn huffed angrily and yanked her hands back.

"You're not _listening_, Rachel! I. Can't. Do it. If you sit around here trying to flatter and coddle me, we're going to waste all our composing time, and we'll end up with nothing to perform. Let's be honest, if we're really going to have a shot at winning Regionals with original songs, _you_ have to be the one to write them. _You're_ the one with the real talent, and you're the one whose future is on the line here. I know you have this whole schoolgirl fantasy in your head of us doing everything together, but I am just gonna drag you down if you keep waiting for me to catch up with you creatively. Let it go, Rachel. _Please_." Quinn had tears in her eyes when she finished; Rachel just started at her with a confused, sad puppy expression in her dark eyes.

"I…don't understand where this is coming from," Rachel said softly, a hint of tears welling up in her voice, too. "You're giving up, just like that? Since when is Quinn Fabray a quitter? You're just off your game because you were home sick for two weeks, honey. You're all out of sorts. We just need to take a minute to relax and refocus, and then…"

"Dammit, Rachel, do I have to hit you in the head with a frying pan like a daffy duck cartoon? You aren't listening to a word I'm saying. God, you're so frustrating! You live in this perfect little schoolgirl fantasy where you can have your dreams without giving up the happy ending and the cute little hometown love story, and honey, that is just not reality. You have to start making some hard choices, Rachel, or I'm going to make them for you. It was _my_ fault we missed our chance at Regionals last year, and I can't let that happen again. Opportunities like this don't come around every day, no matter how talented you are. I am _not_ going to be the reason you don't make it to Broadway, do you understand me?"

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked desperately, shaking her head in confusion. "Are you…breaking up with me?" Her dark eyes were bright with tears as she looked up urgently into her girlfriend's suddenly cold hazel gaze.

"Let me tell you how this story plays out," Quinn said quietly, holding Rachel's gaze with her own. "We write a mediocre song together. We lose Regionals. You'll get some interest from performing arts programs at local colleges, and in ten years, we'll still be right here—you'll take over directing the glee club from Mr. Schue, and I'll become a…successful…real estate agent." Quinn's voice cracked a little, unable to hide her misery at the future she was painting. Rachel just stared at her blankly, unable to process what she was hearing.

"We'll start a family," the blonde girl continued tonelessly, "and our kids will hate Lima as much as we do. They'll move to New York or LA the second they graduate, and we'll hear from them a few times a year at most. The glee kids will give you a yearbook dedication and thank you for always believing in them. I'll make vegan cupcakes for your bake sales. The end." The two girls stared silently at each other for a moment, tears spilling down both their cheeks now. "You don't belong here, Rachel," Quinn finished quietly, her voice husky with the sobs she was holding back. "And you can't hate me for helping to send you on your way."

"You don't belong here either," Rachel whispered, shaking her head desperately. "I'm sorry if I put too much pressure on you to compose a song with me…but Quinn, we _are_ getting out of this town together. You can't just give up your dreams for mine. You can get into any college you want—Columbia, NYU—we'll move to New York together, you'll have so many opportunities..."

"That's not going to happen, Rach," Quinn shook her head sadly, not bothering to wipe away the tears streaking her face. "My mom and I are broke without my dad. He makes court-appointed child support payments for now…but once I turn eighteen, you can bet I won't see another penny from him. He's not going to pay for college. I'm as good as enrolled at Southern Ohio Community College, and there's nothing either of us can do about it."

"So you'll apply for financial aid," Rachel shrugged, desperately trying to find the logical, irrefutable argument that would erase the hopeless, defeated look from her girlfriend's eyes. Quinn just snorted coldly.

"Yeah, 'cause colleges _love_ to give full scholarships to students with millionaire dads who just don't _want_ to pay tuition."

"So you'll get a merit-based scholarship," Rachel persisted, her eyes flashing angrily as she puffed herself up and stuck out her chest a little. They had never argued about the future like this before—never actually even _discussed_ the future, really—and Rachel was starting to get genuinely angry at her girlfriend for giving up on herself so easily, when Rachel knew in every fiber of her being that Quinn could have any future she wanted, if she would just reach out and take it. "You're a National Merit semi-finalist with a 4.0 grade point average! You're going to have plenty of interest from colleges without _Community_ in the title. Now step out from under the raincloud that's stuck over your head, will you? Because I need you to shake this off and come back to me now. I'm not giving up on you, Quinn. I won't."

"You have to!" Quinn shrieked, stamping her foot with her hands clenched tightly at her sides. "If you keep looking for that happy ending, then you are _never_ gonna get out of this town. So we're done with that now." The blonde girl stooped and grabbed her things, her tears drying as the cold, distant expression she'd worn for so many years settled back onto her face like a familiar mask.

"Are you…breaking up with me?" Rachel whispered, her voice laced with anguish.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispered back, the coldness in her voice cracking momentarily as her own heartbreak and vulnerability shone through. "This is for your own good." And with that, the blonde girl was gone, leaving a confused, heartbroken Rachel sobbing over the piano.

….

The next day, everyone in glee was confused and surprised to see their two favorite leading ladies seated on opposite ends of the choir room, not looking at each other. Kurt tried to pry the details from a silent and uncooperative Quinn, while Santana and Brittany grilled an equally unresponsive Rachel. When Mr. Schue called them to order, Rachel immediately raised her hand, and unsurprisingly, announced that she had a number prepared to show them all. When Mr. Schue nodded encouragingly, the little diva stood shakily, and walked purposefully to the front of the room, looking sadder and paler than any of her teammates could ever remember seeing her. Several of them glanced back at Quinn with reproachful looks in their eyes, the question _why did you have to mess with her head right before Regionals_ practically hanging in the air. Quinn just stared at the floor, unable to meet the accusing glares of her teammates.

"Quinn?" Rachel said quietly when she stood at the front of the room. "Even though we're not together anymore, I was hoping we could put our differences aside for a moment, and perform this song as a duet…I wrote it for you." The room was dead silent. After a moment of awkward eye contact, Quinn swallowed and nodded, standing slowly and smoothing her skirt as she walked to the front of the room, taking the sheet music from Rachel's outstretched hand carefully without letting their fingers touch. The blonde girl glanced down at the words on the page in front of her, then back up at Rachel, a small, heartbroken smile on her face. Rachel smiled bravely back, a tear slipping down her cheek before she turned away and began singing.

_The power lines went out  
And I am all alone  
But I don't really care at all  
not answering my phone_

Quinn took a step forward, and opened her mouth to join in with her own soft, haunting melody.

_All the games you played, the promises you made  
Couldn't finish what you started only darkness still remains _

Then didn't look at each other when they both broke into the harmony together.

_Lost sight, couldn't see  
When it was you and me  
Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
I'm beginning to see the light  
Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
But I think I'll be alright _

The entire room stared mesmerized at the two girls, the raw heartbreak in both their voices only adding to the exquisite beauty of the song.

_Been black and blue before  
There's no need to explain  
I am not the jaded kind playback's such a waste  
You're invisible, invisible to me, my wish is coming true erase the memory of your face _

_Lost sight, couldn't see  
When it was you and me  
Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
I'm beginning to see the light  
Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
But I think I'll be alright _

Finally, Quinn and Rachel turned to look at each other, neither surprised to see the tears on the other's face as they got to the bridge.

_One day you will wake up  
With nothing but your sorrys  
And someday you will get back  
Everything you gave me_

Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
I'm beginning to see the light  
Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight  
But I think I'll be alright.

As soon as the song ended, the entire room burst into wild applause. Rachel smiled through her tears, and gave a little curtsey to her audience; while Quinn just bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply to push her own heartbreak back behind the floodgates.

"I think we've found our opening number for Regionals," Mr. Schue said when the applause finally died down. "Well done, Rachel, I think I speak for the group when I say we'll be honored to perform your song."

"Thank you," Rachel murmured, with a watery smile. "Excuse me for a moment…I just need to freshen up." With that underwhelming response to being told her song would be performed at Regionals, Rachel was gone, and Quinn was left standing awkwardly in front of them. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, then hurriedly returned to her seat without speaking a word or looking at anyone.

…..

The song that the rest of the club wrote was, thank goodness, an upbeat and lively number to follow the heartbreak of _Candles_, and they rehearsed that week like they never had before. Rachel and Quinn didn't speak at all outside of rehearsing their number, both pushing every thought that wasn't directly related to Regionals firmly to the back of their minds. After a few days, Quinn started to feel like herself again, despite the empty ache that Rachel's absence left in her heart; she realized her girlfriend…_ex-girlfriend_…had been right about her being in a funk after her slow recovery from mono, and the doom and gloom future that had felt so certain and inevitable a week ago started to lose its grip on her mind.

Of _course_ she didn't have to stay in Lima…with or without a scholarship. With or without Rachel. The heartbreak that stabbed viciously through her chest at that thought made her push it back down as quickly as she could, breathing deeply with her hands clenched to her sides, like she was in labor again. She couldn't afford to lose it like this right now, not with Regionals at stake. So for the sake of her teammates (she forced herself to think only of that—the _team_—as her motivational force), she carefully wrapped her pain up into a small, tidy package and pushed it down deep inside her heart, where she'd stored all the years of pain and anguish up until she'd fallen in love with the tiny, infuriating diva whose future was now in her hands. This performance, Quinn knew deep in her bones, was Rachel's ticket to her future. And the blonde girl was going to make damn sure she did her part to make those Regionals judges see that.

…

On the morning of the competition, Rachel woke up alone and allowed herself to cry for a few minutes before collecting herself and putting on her game face. A year ago at this time, she and Quinn had been fighting, too…though _fighting_ might be a generous term for their current situation. For any number of obvious reasons, high-stakes competitions seemed to bring both of their anxieties and insecurities to the surface; and Rachel tried to remind herself that they'd gotten though it before, and they could do so again.

_But she broke up with me_, the sad voice in her head reminded her stubbornly. _This isn't a fight. She gave up on me…on us…and left me all alone._

"Knock knock." The soft voice of her dad came through Rachel's bedroom door before his curly brown head popped through, smiling at her with the same pride and confidence in her as always. "Ready to knock 'em dead, princess?"

"I…" Rachel's voice cracked, and wavered. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm ready." Jacob crossed the room and sat down next to his daughter on the bed, squeezing her shoulder. She sighed and leaned into his reassuring warmth.

"You're going to be amazing, Rachel. You're going to win this thing and get to Nationals…and some day, sooner than you think, all those people who see you perform today will be bragging to their friends that they saw _the Rachel Berry_ perform her first original number live on stage in a high school competition." Rachel chuckled, and looked up at her dad gratefully.

"Thanks, Dad…I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl. Now go get your butt in the shower so we can get this show on the road." Rachel sniffed, and nodded. Today was the day. She could feel it. And right now, she couldn't afford to let anything else matter.

The ride to Regionals was one long three-hour manic fit of energy, as the club sang every old favorite they could think of, from Thriller to Valerie and Bad Romance. They were all so full of nervous energy, they had to keep singing or they'd surely explode from the pressure. Rachel sat at the front of the bus, conducting them all jokingly with a baton that had been left under the seat from the last Cheerios competition. Quinn sat in the back, joining in half-heartedly and avoiding all their eyes. Kurt and Santana both tried to talk to her at different points, but all she'd say was _let's talk about it later_.

Keen to avoid another huge pre-performance blowout, they agreed, shooting each other a few conspiratorial looks every now and again. Registration and the bustle of the green room were a blur, and before they really knew what was happening, Quinn and Rachel found themselves standing behind the curtain, staring at each other with their hearts in their throats as the announcer introduced their team.

"Are you ready?" Rachel asked quietly, tentatively reaching out and squeezing Quinn's hand. It was the first real contact they'd had in a week, and the blonde girl's eyes welled up instantly with tears.

"No," she whispered frantically, shaking her head. "I'm freaking out…the last time we were here, I went into labor. Oh fuck, I can't do this Rachel…" Before Quinn could get another panicked word out, Rachel took her face in both hands, and pressed their lips together urgently. The blonde girl froze, then melted into the kiss, her hands floating down the shorter girl's body to pull her in by the hips.

"You _can_ do it, Quinn," Rachel whispered back, pulling back just slightly from the kiss, their foreheads still touching. "You already have. You inspired me to write this song, and now we're going to blow them all away. You can't make me leave you, Quinn…not really. I'll always have your back, no matter what. You know that, don't you?"

"I'm so sorry, Rachel," Quinn said quietly, unable to look away from the bottomless brown eyes locked on her own. "I was so stupid, and so stubborn…"

"It's okay, baby," Rachel shook her head, beaming as she wiped the tear tracks from Quinn's pink cheeks. "I'm stupid and stubborn too. I'm right here with you…and I swear, Quinn, it really _is_ all gonna be okay." Rachel leaned in again, and kissed Quinn playfully on the tip of her nose. Quinn laughed, all the tension leaving her body in one great rush, until only the crackling energy of the performance they were about to give was left.

"Can I be your sunshine again?" the blonde girl asked shyly, slipping her hand into Rachel's and lacing their fingers together.

"If I can still be your gold star," Rachel beamed, squeezing her fingers so tightly, Quinn felt the jolt all the way up her arm.

"I fucking love you," Quinn half-growled, pressing one quick, urgent kiss to Rachel's full lips before the curtain went up, and the little diva released her, singing her heart out to the audience and reaching her hand back toward the blonde girl, confident in every note that her girlfriend would step out on cue and join her.

An hour later, they held up the trophy that would send them to Nationals.


	40. Trying New Things is Good

Smut warning for this chap! As if there was any doubt that make up sex was about to happen… :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 40**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Q? Q, are you listening to me? Earth to lovesick puppies, come in!" Santana leaned over the back of the green vinyl seat as the bus chugged home to Lima, and poked Quinn fairly hard in the shoulder.

"I can hear you," Quinn growled, without bothering to fully remove her lips from Rachel's throat. "I'm just ignoring you." Rachel giggled, sifting her fingers idly through Quinn's soft hair as her girlfriend continued to playfully kiss and nip at her neck.

"It's a simple question, Fabray. Will you or will you not meet us at Britt's before the party, so we can make an entrance in style?"

"Mmm…what party?" Quinn mumbled absently against Rachel's neck.

"Ai, Dios—do I have to hose the two of you down?" Santana reached across the seat and pinched Rachel's arm.

"Ow!" the little diva squealed, her head snapping up as she jerked backwards off Quinn's lap in shock.

"Santana! What the fuck?" Quinn snarled, her lip curling slightly like a feral jungle cat about to pounce. "A little privacy, please?"

"You're on a freaking school bus, genius." Santana smirked, obviously enjoying the sight of her friends looking so hot and bothered—they were normally pretty demure with their public displays of affection, content with holding hands or sitting in each other's laps at the most when prying eyes were upon them. But right now, fresh off their win at regionals and their very recent reunion after being broken up for a week, all bets were obviously off.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Quinn growled, balling up her hands into fists as she gave her best friend her most furious death ray glare.

"Dang, Q, you've really got this whole angry/hot thing going on right now…" Santana raised an eyebrow appreciatively. Rachel could actually _feel_ Quinn's stomach muscles jumping under her skin, and she wrapped both arms hastily around her girlfriend's trembling body before she could leap over the seat and attack the other girl with the power of her pent-up sexual frustration.

"It's okay, baby, just relax," Rachel murmured huskily in the blonde girl's ear, slipping a hand up under the back of Quinn's shirt and rubbing her back soothingly. "You know she can't resist getting a rise off you when you make it so easy…" Rachel nuzzled Quinn's throat, and Quinn sighed languidly, releasing the tension in her body and unclenching her fists at the same time.

"Totally relaxing now," The blonde girl murmured agreeably as her eyes slid shut, tilting her head back to give her girlfriend a better angle. "God, I missed you Rach…"

"Oh, dammit," Santana whined, realizing she'd just missed her window to actually talk to them. "You guys _are_ coming to the party, right? Ten o'clock at Finn and Kurt's place. To celebrate our victory."

"Mm-hmm. Yeah. Party. Totally…gonna be there," Quinn murmured absently, not bothering to open her eyes as Rachel continued nuzzling her neck.

"Late," Rachel growled, her long hair whipping around as she turned to give Santana her own death ray stare. "We will be there, but we will be _late_. We are not making an entrance with you. As soon as we get off this bus, we are both turning off our phones, and we will talk to you again _at the party_. Is that perfectly clear, Santana?"

"Whoa…you've got the angry/hot thing too, shortcake," the Latina grinned, actually flushing a little as her eyes traveled between the two furious glares her friends were giving her. "You guys should totally fight crime together."

"They just want to have make-up sex, Santi," Brittany said patiently, like she was explaining to a toddler that dolphins were just gay sharks. "Like we did after you sang that song to me in glee last week."

"Brittany, you are much wiser than the world gives you credit for," Rachel smirked, as Quinn leaned down and began nibbling on her earlobe.

…..

Everything else was a blur until the two girls were in the privacy of Quinn's bedroom. They'd never exactly had to sneak around—since their relationship had begun while they were living together, and since there was zero chance of either of them getting each other pregnant, their parents had taken a fairly progressive "don't ask, don't tell" stance on their sex life. But that didn't change the fact that no one wants to worry about their parents overhearing their moans of ecstasy from down the hall, nor the fact that Rachel was as naturally loud in the bedroom as she was everywhere else. So, over time, they'd learned to take advantage of good timing…and right now, Quinn thanked all the merciful heavens that her mother's new job demanded occasional weekend hours.

"God, I missed you so much," Quinn whispered against Rachel's mouth, slipping her hands up under her girlfriend's shirt and tugging it gently up and over her head.

"You have no idea, Quinn," Rachel shook her head, taking the blonde girl's hand in her own and resting it over the bare skin between her breasts. "When we were apart…I felt like I was being stabbed in the chest with a rusty old meat cleaver. Every minute."

"I'm so sorry, Rach," Quinn whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as she leaned down and kissed the soft, olive-toned skin beneath her fingers. "I'm so, so sorry I hurt you…"

"Shh, it's all over now, baby," Rachel hummed, stroking her fingers through Quinn's silky hair, holding her head reverently in her hands. "We're together, and that's all that matters…I just wanna make you feel good right now, my sweet angel girl." Quinn picked her head up, an uncertain, hopeful look clouding her hazel eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Of course," Rachel shrugged, giggling a little. "Why? What kinky little desire are you too shy to ask me for, hmmm?"

"I'm not"—Quinn started to say, but then faltered, grinning bashfully, and bit her lip. "Okay…maybe there is _something_…"

"God, you are so sexy when you're being shy like this," Rachel sighed, her hands slipping down to her girlfriend's hips and pulling her closer. "Someday, Quinn, you're going to realize that there's nothing you want that I don't want to give you." The blonde girl looked up slowly from her hands, a small half-smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Even if I…wanted to…um…" Quinn gulped, forcing herself not to look away from her girlfriend's adoring gaze. "Tie you up?" Rachel snorted and rolled her eyes. Quinn scowled and pulled back in a huff.

"Is that all?" Rachel giggled, grabbing Quinn's hand so she couldn't pull away. "You got so nervous, I thought it was gonna be something way kinkier."

"Well, that's pretty kinky, for me," Quinn shrugged, her face flushing adorably. "I mean, I've never…we've never…"

"I know, honey. I'm sorry I teased. I was just trying to get you to relax. Or, um, maybe I was trying to get us _both_ to relax…because, well…what you just said…I've thought about it too."

"You have?" Quinn asked, her hazel eyes going wide with innocent surprise. Rachel nodded, her gaze heavy-lidded as their eyes locked.

"Oh, yeah," Rachel sighed, laying back against the pillows on Quinn's large four-poster bed. "I've definitely thought about it…about what it would be like to be totally helpless…and let you…dominate me."

"Oh. _Wow_. Am I, uhh…blushing as much as you are right now?" Quinn squeaked, squirming a little as her underwear started to feel damp.

"Uh-huh," Rachel nodded, grinning. "So…do you have something?"

"What, like a condom?" Quinn asked, her eyebrows quirking in a goofy expression of confusion, reminding Rachel of Finn for one horrifying second.

"No, doofus! Like something to tie me up with!"

"Oh. Yeah. Totally." Quinn grinned hugely, leaping off the bed and running to her walk-in closet, where Rachel could hear the noise of her banging around clumsily.

"Easy there, tiger. Don't forget to breathe," the dark-haired girl called teasingly.

"I'm…_ow!_ I'm breathing," Quinn squeaked, after a low thump that sounded like she'd stubbed her toe on something. When she came back out, she'd stripped off her dress, and for a moment all Rachel saw was her gorgeous girlfriend, and all that soft, porcelain skin covered only by an adorable pair of Hello-Kitty underpants, and nothing else.

"Are you _sure_ this is okay?" Quinn asked, and only then did Rachel notice the two long, silky lengths of dark red material that her girlfriend was holding. "I don't want you to do it just for me."

"It's not just for you," Rachel assured her, shaking her head with her own adorably shy grin. "Believe me, Quinn…I want it, too. And maybe text time, _I'll_ tie _you_ up." She raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Quinn blushed even redder.

"Okay," the blonde girl nodded, grinning. "Then away we go…" Quinn climbed on top of Rachel on the bed, and began lovingly stripping off her girlfriend's remaining clothes. First her skinny black jeans came off; Rachel did nothing to help except to lift her hips so Quinn could peel the fabric down her legs. Then the blonde girl crawled back up her girlfriend's smooth, perfect body, leaning over her to unhook her black lace bra, and throwing it carelessly across the room. Rachel giggled, and lifted her hips again so Quinn could hook her thumbs under the band of her underwear, trailing her nails lightly down Rachel's endless tanned legs, until the dark-haired girl was completely naked and prone beneath her.

"Ready?" Quinn asked quietly, her voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

"So totally ready," Rachel nodded eagerly, stretching her arms up over her head to demonstrate her willingness.

"Okay," Quinn nodded, with an almost imperceptible shiver as she leaned over her girlfriend, gently tying one wrist to the headboard, then the other. "Does that feel okay, baby?" She asked when she was done, tugging gently to test the pressure.

"Mm-hmm," Rachel nodded dreamily. "I'm all yours…totally helpless." They stared at each other for a moment, both of them beginning to breathe heavily. "What do you want to do to me?"

Quinn's heart began to thump wildly in her chest as she sat back over Rachel's hips, taking in the intoxicating, slightly intimidating sight of her girlfriend lying completely powerless beneath her.

Except she wasn't powerless, not really—she was _choosing_ to give Quinn this, to allow her to take over and call all the shots about what would happen next. It made Quinn's heart swell with love, even as her belly flooded with heat and her clit throbbed urgently in anticipation. She felt unsure and a little anxious about doing something wrong, that would hurt or upset Rachel in some way. She decided she would have to take this very, very slow.

"Well…" Quinn drawled, trailing her fingers down Rachel's arms, over her collarbone, and meeting in the middle to skim down between her breasts to her bellybutton. "First I want to kiss you…" Leaning forward, Quinn planted her arms on the mattress on either side of Rachel, holding herself up on her elbows so their upper bodies weren't touching at all. Then she leaned down and pressed a soft, teasing kiss to her girlfriend's full lips, licking along the underside of her teeth, then sucking playfully on her lower lip.

"Uhhh…God, Quinn…" Rachel whined, arching up against the mattress and trying to push herself into her girlfriend's body, desperate for more contact. "Please, I need more…"

"I know, baby, shh. You're gonna get everything you need, I promise. I just need to go slow…I'm just…a little scared. Is that okay?" Quinn lowered her body gently on top of Rachel's then, so their thighs slipped in between each other's hips, and they both rocked together a little on instinct. Rachel blinked up at her girlfriend's flushed face, taking in her pink cheeks practically glowing with arousal, and her hazel eyes shining with love; all for her and no one else.

"That's okay, sunshine," Rachel nodded, breathing deeply and deliberately. "You don't have to be scared…everything is amazing, and I love you, and you can go as slow as you want. I'll probably regret saying that at some point…" Quinn bit her lip in sheepish apology, and Rachel laughed, her back arching slightly so her nipples, pert and tight with arousal, brushed against Quinn's. They both moaned softly, and Quinn pushed back against the length of Rachel's body, burying her face in the warm skin of her girlfriend's throat.

"Go slow…just…don't stop," Rachel panted, and Quinn nodded wordlessly against her girlfriend's pulse point, before sucking the soft skin between her teeth. "Oh, fuck, _yeah_," Rachel ground out, her body undulating helplessly under the blonde girl's delicious weight. Her arms strained briefly against their bindings, forgetting in the moment that they were trapped, so strong was the urge to wrap her fingers into her girlfriend's soft blonde hair. She let out a soft growl of frustration as she remembered why her arms couldn't lift off the pillows, and settled instead for grinding her thigh up in between Quinn's, feeling her warmth and her wetness, and, unfortunately, the damp cotton of her Hello-Kitty panties.

"Why are you still wearing underwear?" Rachel half-whined, half-growled. In answer, Quinn flipped quickly off her girlfriend's quivering body, and efficiently shucked the interfering garment off, tossing it absently to the floor. Then she rolled just as hastily back on top of Rachel, who sighed and arched back into her in an instant.

"That's better," Quinn murmured, planting her elbows on the mattress on either side of Rachel's flushed, sweat-slicked body. Their legs slipped easily back into their preferred position, but Quinn was doing her best to keep the pressure light for now—she really did want to take her time with this, for both their sakes.

"Oh, God, Quinn, I need you so bad," Rachel whined, bucking her hips up into Quinn's as she writhed against the mattress. "Please, baby, please…give me something, anything…"

"Wow, you are so unbelievably into this," Quinn murmured, trailing one hand lightly up and down Rachel's side, from her hip to just below her exposed armpit, which made Rachel giggle and squirm hysterically.

"Told you," Rachel gasped, pushing her thigh up firmly between Quinn's again, much more gratified with the action now that she could feel her girlfriend's warm, slippery wetness smearing against her skin.

"Oh!" Quinn gasped, grinding back automatically as she leaned down and captured Rachel's open mouth in a hot, wet, desperate kiss. They could feel each other's heartbeats pounding against their skin as they lost themselves in the sensation of being so close, so excruciatingly close after the painful, gut-wrenching week they'd just spent apart. Abruptly, Quinn wrenched her lips away and sat back on Rachel's hips, panting.

"_Quinn!_ What…why…ughh, please don't stop!" Rachel groaned, arching her back again as her arms strained against their bindings in protest.

"Shh, don't worry baby…I'm not stopping…" Quinn trailed her fingers down from Rachel's throat, all the way down the center-line of her body, past her bellybutton, finally swirling teasingly through the damp curls between her legs. "I'm just…moving."

With that, Quinn crawled backwards until she was lying between Rachel's legs, hooking them both over her shoulders with very little effort—possibly because Rachel was helping once she realized Quinn's new destination.

"Everything still okay up there?" Quinn called up Rachel's body, half-teasing, but half serious as well. She'd never gotten between her girlfriend's legs without having a hand in her hair (or sometimes two), urging and guiding her, communicating with touch when Rachel was too far gone to talk anymore. Without that, Quinn needed to hear her girlfriend's voice before she could go any further.

"Yes, _fuck_, please Quinn," Rachel whined, her voice breathless and panting with anticipation as her hips continued to shift and squirm urgently. The blonde girl smiled softly to herself, the last of her small fears put at ease, and began licking and nibbling the wetness from the baby-soft skin of Rachel's inner thighs. The moaning and writhing that resulted was, Quinn knew, the good kind; she'd slowly begun to get more comfortable with the fact that Rachel sometimes liked it a little rough, liked to feel her teeth and her strength.

"Oh, ohhh, Quinn…oh God, baby…" Rachel had officially entered the babbling nonsense zone, and the blonde girl growled in satisfaction against her girlfriend's warm, wet skin.

"You like being tied up, don't you Rach?" Quinn purred, shifting back slightly and resting her head against Rachel's thigh, while dipping two fingers teasingly into her girlfriend's dripping-wet center.

"_Yes!_ Yes, yes, I fucking love it!" Rachel screamed, head thrown back in unrestrained ecstasy.

"_Yeah_ you do," Quinn growled, so turned on by the sight of her girlfriend looking so wild and unrestrained (aside from, well, actually being tied up) that she felt she could come at the slightest touch. But she wasn't going to worry about that right now…she only cared about one thing in this moment, and that was giving Rachel the most intense orgasm of her life. With one final, hard bite to her inner thigh (Rachel shrieked in encouragement), Quinn nestled back down between her girlfriend's legs and began exploring with her tongue. Rachel moaned and whined, and Quinn knew what she was trying to say; she wanted more. More pressure, more contact. And Quinn would give it to her…eventually.

First, though, she was going to bring her girlfriend right to the very brink of release, with slow, deliberate swipes of her tongue that left Rachel's whole body undulating with waves of pleasure. Not being able to grab Quinn's hair, to hold her and force her to increase her pressure, was making Rachel crazy, and she gasped and moaned and babbled incoherently. Quinn was really, really glad that her mom was at work.

Finally, when she felt like she'd played around enough, Quinn raised herself up slightly on her elbows, and locked her lips around Rachel's clit. The low, breathless keening sound that her girlfriend was making above let her know that Rachel was close, and she began to run her tongue around the tight bundle of nerves in a wide circle, something that never failed to push the dark-haired girl over the brink. Rachel was so keyed up, Quinn barely had a chance to get into her stride before she felt her girlfriend's back arch sharply off the bed, her body clenching and then exploding with release. Quinn slipped two fingers into Rachel's wetness, curling them firmly against the contracting muscles as her tongue laid flat against the underside of Rachel's clit, sucking for all she was worth to draw out her orgasm just a little bit longer.

When Rachel's body finally relaxed, her legs falling back limply against the bed, both of them were panting and gasping. Quinn crawled weakly up Rachel's body and collapsed against her, nuzzling contentedly into her hair as they both waited for their heart rates to slow.

"Holy mother of _God_, Quinn…that was…I don't know what that was, but I _liked_ it. A really, really lot."

"Me too," Quinn giggled, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. "A really, really lot, huh?" She propped her head up in one hand, grinning proudly down at her girlfriend's totally blissed out, sweaty face.

"Fuck, yeah," Rachel nodded, smiling blissfully back. Then she glanced up at her bound arms and said, "Can I be untied now?"

"Totally," Quinn smiled shyly—how she could manage to blush after what they'd just done, Rachel couldn't quite figure out—but she sat up and quickly undid the careful knots she'd made, gently rubbing each of Rachel's wrists and kissing her palms when she released them.

"I can't _wait_ to do that to you," Rachel sighed, stretching out her arms and rolling her shoulders lightly in their sockets to get her circulation flowing again. "Not right now, because you've turned my entire body to jelly…but soon. You're gonna love it, babe."

"Promise?" Quinn asked playfully, settling down again on top of Rachel and pulling the sheet up over their cooling bodies so they wouldn't get a chill.

"Totally," Rachel murmured absently, wrapping her newly freed arms around her girlfriend and playing lazily with her sweat-dampened hair. Then a mischievous grin spread across the dark-haired girl's lips, and she shifted her hips experimentally, pressing her thigh up between Quinn's. The effect was immediate—the blonde girl groaned and bucked her hips, grinding her body down against the pressure Rachel was offering.

"Oh, Jesus…don't tease, Rach…"

"Who's teasing?" Rachel asked, keeping one hand in Quinn's hair while the other raked down her back. "You didn't think I was just gonna leave you all hot and bothered after the orgasm you just gave me, did you?" She kept rocking her hips, thigh nestled firmly between Quinn's, and Quinn pushed back against her, grinding and gasping until Rachel pulled her up by her hair (Quinn liked it a little rough sometimes, too) and kissed her hard. Quinn was so turned on, she barely had time to get into it before she felt the beginnings of her release, turning her whole world to sweetness and clutching muscles and Rachel everywhere around her.

"Jesus, that was easy," the dark-haired girl yawned woozily, after a quiet moment where they lay limply in each other's arms. "I guess you liked tying me up as much as I liked having you tie me up."

"Uh-huh," Quinn agreed absently, eyes closed as she nuzzled into Rachel's throat. "I love you…"

"I love you too, angel. So much…" Rachel's fingers trailed lazily up and down Quinn's back, until she started to notice the light shivers coursing through the blonde girl's sweaty body. In their ardor, they'd kicked the covers off again, and Rachel didn't want Quinn getting a chill when she'd already been sick twice this winter. "Here, let's get covered up," the little diva murmured, stretching out her arm to grab the sheets and blankets, and pulling them up over Quinn's bare back. "Is that better, hmm baby?"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded slightly against Rachel's neck. "Perfect…" Then she yawned, and nuzzled closer, so her breath was right against Rachel's pulse point. "Are we still going to the party?"

"Do you want to?"

"Mmm…I think so," Quinn sighed, propping her head up in one hand and rubbing her eyes. "I mean, as much as I'm enjoying our private celebration…it's not just about you and me tonight. The team is all together at Finn and Kurt's, and I don't want them bonding too much without us."

"Then to the party we shall go," Rachel pronounced grandly, making Quinn giggle and bury her face in Rachel's throat again. "But we should probably take a shower first."

"Oh _hell_ yeah," the blonde girl agreed, sitting up and grinning widely at the picture her girlfriend made sprawled out beneath her, her cheeks flushed, dark eyes shining with satisfaction, hair fanned out wildly across the pillow. "God, you're so fucking sexy," Quinn whispered, shaking her head in amazement. "I could look at you forever…" Rachel's pink cheeks blushed a little deeper, as she locked her eyes on Quinn's piercing hazel gaze, and grinned wantonly.

"I think I could find a few ways to distract you from just looking," Rachel purred, sitting up and kissing Quinn's throat, while one arm reached around to hold her firmly in place, and the other played teasingly with a pert, rosy nipple. Quinn moaned appreciatively into the kiss.

"I thought…we were going…to the party?" The blonde girl panted when their lips broke apart.

"Mm-hmm. Shower first. I wanna make you come one more time while you're all wet." Quinn nearly fell out of bed in her eagerness to reach the shower.

They did make it to the party eventually; and this time, they didn't bother trying to cover up their hickeys. It wasn't as if any of their teammates didn't know what had been keeping them from the celebration.

"I'd scold you for being so terribly late if I thought it might actually have any impact on your future behavior," Kurt said teasingly as the two girls arrived hand in hand, and sat down together on the couch.

"Dude, don't even think it," Puck scowled, shaking his head at Kurt's teasing smirk. "No cock-blocking the girl-on-girl action at this party. They can have another go right here if they want to."

"In your dreams," Rachel smiled sweetly, winking at him with a satisfied expression as she leaned back contentedly into Quinn's arm.

"You know it," the ever-lecherous boy grinned. Quinn glanced from Puck's hungry expression, over to Lauren Zizes, who sat beside him looking totally unconcerned.

"Puck, don't be such as assface. Your girlfriend is sitting right next to you."

"Aw, I don't mind if he looks," Lauren shrugged, as Puck turned to her with the closest thing to a sappy expression the rest of them had ever seen him wear, and leaned in to kiss her.

"Thanks, Mama."

"You know it."

"It really doesn't bother you?" Quinn frowned, her eyebrow going up in obvious disbelief.

"Nope," Lauren shrugged, adjusting her glasses as she leveled Quinn and Rachel with a lecherous smirk of her own. "I mean, I like to look, too. You guys are wicked hot together."

"It's true," Brittany agreed cheerfully. "Especially right after make-up sex." Quinn and Rachel both blushed crimson; then they looked at each other and shrugged.

"They're really right," Rachel grinned smugly, and kissed Quinn soundly.

"And on that note, I think we need another round of drinks," Kurt squeaked, jumping up and running to the kitchen as fast as his boy-loving legs would carry him. He may be as modern and progressive as the next gay teen, but there were only so many girl kisses he could stand to watch in one night, and Brittany and Santana had already pushed him more or less to his limit. Besides, it was the perfect time to order some pizzas and mix up another round of mojitos. Life in Lima, Ohio really didn't get much better than this.


	41. A Very Faberry Passover

Hey kids! So sorry it's been so long since I've updated…as Rachel will attest, Passover is a _very busy time_ in the Jewish world. I hope this was worth the wait! Enjoy :)

-JW

Note: _Shiksa_ is a Yiddish slang word that means "non-Jewish woman." You'll need to know that for the ending of this chap to make sense!

2nd note: We all know that in real life, both Lea and Dianna are Jewish, right? Yes, it's true! We have all the hotties. _Agron_ was apparently shortened from _Agronsky_ at Ellis Island. Dianna even mentioned living off Bat Mitzvah money when she first came to LA in that Marie Claire interview this month! So chag sameach from Rachel and Quinn, everybody :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 41**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Hey Thumbelina," Santana nodded at Rachel from across the hallway, lounging by Brittany's locker before the first bell. "Where's Q? Don't tell me she's out sick again, or I'm gonna shove her ass in a plastic bubble."

"No, Santana, she's not sick," Rachel sighed, scowling resentfully at her friends' casual display of affection in front of the lockers. "Don't you remember what day it is today?"

"Thursday?" Santana shrugged indifferently.

"Besides that," Rachel huffed impatiently. Santana raised an eyebrow blankly.

"It's Beth's first birthday," the little starlet said in a low voice, as if Quinn were in fact standing right next to them and might overhear. Santana looked slightly guilty as she glanced from Rachel back to Brittany, who was staring at her with a stricken expression as they both realized they'd forgotten all about the coming of this significant date for their best friend.

"Is Quinn all sad and alone?" Brittany asked softly, her blue eyes wide with worry.

"Something like that," Rachel sighed dejectedly, leaning against her locker and kicking at the floor with the toe of her Mary Janes. "But I don't really know. Her mom called my house this morning to say she wasn't coming to pick me up for school as usual, but I was in the shower, so I didn't get to talk to her."

"Poor Quinn," Brittany sighed, turning her puppy dog eyes on Santana, who scowled and looked at the floor. She may be improving in the talking-about-her-feelings department, but serious displays of emotion were still something she struggled with, and the very public hallway of McKinley High was _not_ a place she wanted to let her guard down. "What do you think we should do, Rach?"

The dark-haired girl smiled sadly at her friends. "I think if she wants to be alone right now, we should respect that—at least for a little while. I texted her before I left for school to say I loved her and I'm here if she needs me, and I haven't heard anything back. Maybe you could text her, too, just so she knows we're all there for her? We'll see if she comes out of her shell. Okay, Britt?" The blonde girl nodded, and threw her arms around the shorter girl in a tight hug. Rachel was surprised how much it helped, knowing she wasn't the only one thinking and worrying about Quinn today.

"So I guess we'll see you in glee, Shortcake," Santana shrugged awkwardly, giving her a little nudge on the shoulder. It was considerably more subdued than Brittany's bear hug; but for Santana, it was a pretty strong show of affection.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded glumly, managing a small half-smile. "See you."

Rachel kept obsessively checking her phone throughout the school day, but Quinn never replied to her text. It took a massive dose of willpower for Rachel to stop herself from calling or texting her girlfriend again; but experience had taught her that badgering Quinn to communicate when she was withdrawn would only cause a bigger meltdown. When the final bell of the day rang, Rachel made an executive decision and marched to Mr. Schuester's office to inform him that she'd be missing glee rehearsal due to a personal matter of great urgency, and before he could respond, she listed off a series of vocal exercises that the rest of the club might do in her absence to improve their range and prepare for Nationals. Without even fully registering his annoyed expression, Rachel turned around and left school without a backwards glance.

…

"Hi Mrs. Fabray," the dark-haired girl smiled awkwardly, hands clasped behind her back as she stood shifting her weight from one foot to the other on the doorstep. "How's she doing?"

"Hello dear," Judy Fabray said a bit formally, offering Rachel a stiff smile. "I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can convince her to get out of bed, or at least eat something." She stood aside and allowed Rachel to enter the imposing entryway of the large house.

"I'll do my best," Rachel nodded, looking over the strained expression on the older Fabray's face. "How are _you_ doing?"

"Oh," Judy made a small _tsk_ing noise, waving a hand dismissively, like it wasn't a valid question. When Rachel just kept staring at her, she sighed and looked down at her hands, soft lines of regret etched into her face. "It's my fault she's like this, you know. I raised her to keep her feelings to herself, not to be a burden to her father…and now all I want is for her to forget all that and let me help her bear her burdens. But it's too late."

"It's not too late," Rachel disagreed. "We just have to be patient. She just has to learn that's safe to open up…and we have to keep showing her that it is. She's already come so far; and I know she's grateful for how you stood up to her father last year. It means a lot. She loves you, you know."

"She…she does?" Judy asked hopefully, her expression of cautious, calculated hopefulness reminding Rachel sharply of her girlfriend when she was caught between anticipation, and fear of disappointment.

"Of course she does," Rachel shrugged. "You're her mom." Judy looked Rachel up and down, as if appraising her for the first time, and smiled cautiously.

"You're a good girl, Rachel. Quinn is lucky to have you." Rachel blushed, but returned the shy grin.

"I'm lucky to have her, too." Judy nodded, and briefly squeezed the little starlet's shoulder, turning her around and pointing her towards the stairs with a small smile of encouragement.

…..

Upstairs, Rachel found Quinn curled up motionless in her bed, cuddling her stuffed monster and listening to her iPod with the lights turned off. She didn't stir when Rachel opened the door, which meant she either didn't notice or didn't care what was going on around her. The dark-haired girl quietly slipped out of her shoes and jacket, and crawled under the covers, nuzzling up to Quinn's back and slipping one arm around her hips. Quinn shivered at her girlfriend's light touch; then she yanked out her earbuds and turned around, wrapping her arms around Rachel's body and burying her face in the warm hollow of her throat.

"It hurts," the blonde girl whispered brokenly.

"I know, baby…I'm here," Rachel hummed, rubbing Quinn's back and holding her tightly. "You did the right thing, Quinn…I know it's hard, but you did the right thing. You gave her a better life, and she'll always know that. She won't wonder why you couldn't keep her. She won't wonder if you loved her. She'll know you…and you'll always be her mom, Quinn. Her only mom."

Quinn broke down and sobbed in Rachel's arms then, and the little diva just held her girlfriend and rocked her quietly, humming a wordless tune until the shaking, sobbing girl finally cried herself into exhaustion and fell asleep. Rachel closed her eyes and snuggled down deeper in Quinn's arms, intending to hold her just a few minutes longer…but the next thing she knew, she was waking up from a dreamless sleep in a darkened room.

"Hey little star," Quinn murmured when Rachel stretched and yawned, reaching over the turn on the bedside light. They both blinked woozily at the suddenly bright light.

"Hey, there's my sunshine," Rachel smiled sleepily, wrapping both arms around Quinn's neck and giving her a soft, undemanding kiss. "Do you feel a little better?"

"Yeah," Quinn sighed, rubbing her eyes and propping her head in one hand. "I'm sorry I never answered your text…I know you must have been worried all day."

"It's okay, Quinn. I knew today was going to be hard for you. I just want to help you, however I can. And if that means letting you take some time to be alone, then that's okay…you just tell me what you need, angel. And I swear, if it's within my power, I'll do anything you ask." Rachel leaned in and kissed the tip of Quinn's nose. Quinn smiled shyly and blushed bright red.

"God, I really don't know what I did to deserve you, Rach," the blonde girl sighed, closing her eyes and cuddling back up to her dark-haired girlfriend for another long, quiet moment.

"Must have been some good karma from a past life," Rachel joked, and Quinn giggled sleepily. Then they both heard Quinn's stomach growl, and Rachel pulled back a little and smoothed her girlfriend's sleep-mussed blonde hair back from her face. "Your mom says you haven't eaten all day," she said gently. "Want me to make you something, hmm baby?"

"Ughh, I dunno," Quinn groaned, rubbing her stomach with a slightly pained expression. "You know that feeling where you're, like, nauseous from being upset? It's not like being sick, but it can still make you throw up."

"Yeah, I do," Rachel nodded, smiling sadly in commiseration, and leaning in to plant a few soft kisses over Quinn's face. "But the longer you go without eating, the more upset your tummy will feel. Plus, I pretty much know all your comfort foods. C'mon, anything you want baby. Cinnamon toast? Egg drop soup? Mac & cheese?" Rachel kept nuzzling Quinn's face as she listed her choices, punctuating each one with a kiss. She could feel the smile tugging at the corner of Quinn's mouth when she finally answered.

"For a vegan, you really do make fantastic mac & cheese, you know." Rachel beamed.

"You're just lucky Passover hasn't started yet. There's nothing_ anyone_ can do to make Kosher-for-Passover noodles taste edible."

"Oh, jeez…I totally forgot about Passover." Quinn slapped a hand to her forehead with a scowl of self-reproach. "Isn't it happening this week? I promised I'd go to your cousins' seder in Muncie…"

"Shh, it's okay baby. I totally understand if you're not up for it. I know you need alone time when you're sad, and my family seder is more or less the exact opposite of alone time, and if you think _I'm_ loud…"

"Rach, I want to go," Quinn smiled with a shake of her head. "I just lost track of the dates lately, thinking about…about Beth and everything. But we didn't miss it, right? It's still coming?"

"We didn't miss it," Rachel shook her head, grinning ear to ear. "It's tomorrow night, actually. Are you sure you're up for it, though? There will be an awful lot of Maneschewitz, and my family tends to get pretty rowdy between the second and third cup."

Quinn was sure. And Judy was so relieved to see her daughter smiling again, she barely batted an eye at giving her permission to spend the night with Rachel's family, out-of-state, for a Jewish holiday. Rachel was so excited, she spent the rest of the night giving Quinn a crash-course on the story of Passover and the various aspects of the seder, so she wouldn't be lost during the long and intricate ritual meal.

By the time they arrived in Muncie the next day, Quinn knew more about Passover than the average non-observant American Jew. Rachel had even convinced her to learn the four questions, which up until now had always been Rachel's job as the youngest child in the family (leaving out baby Lucy, who had not yet mastered her ABC's). Quinn was wary, but agreed to read the questions in English if Rachel would chant the traditional Hebrew. The little brunette was so elated at sharing her favorite holiday with her girlfriend, not to mention the chance to introduce her to the extended Berry family, she was on the verge of spontaneous human combustion by the time the car pulled into the driveway of the neat little colonial house in Muncie.

Rachel's Aunt Sandy greeted them warmly, then immediately put the girls to work chopping apples for the charoset, while the men set the long table (which was actually three oddly shaped tables put together) with all the best place settings. An assortment of younger cousins arrived through the afternoon, most of them appearing to be college aged or in their 20's, and Quinn was charmed by how casual and comfortable Rachel seemed around her family, joking with them and making funny faces when they teased her good-naturedly over some shared childhood memory.

As evening set in, more of the adult cousins arrived, plus a few great-aunts and uncles, and everyone spent a long time talking and drinking and nibbling matzah crackers and cheese in the living room. Finally, they all moved to the heavily-laden table and began the seder. Quinn was glad now that Rachel had prepared her so thoroughly, because it really _was_ a pretty intricate meal, even by the Fabrays' Catholic standards.

There were blessings and readings and bible quotes and pauses for reflection between each of the four cups of wine, and when it came to the actual telling of the Exodus story, Rachel and her college-age cousins suddenly jumped up and proceeded to act out the drama like a Broadway show, an act they'd obviously spent years perfecting. And when Quinn began quietly reading the four questions, they all cheered and slapped her on the back with great enthusiasm, until she had no choice but to let go of her "polite company decorum," and belt it out like a diva, laughing all the way through.

By the time the dinner was consumed and the guests began to bid their farewells, Quinn was tipsy and exhausted and smiling goofily with her head on Rachel's shoulder. She was glad they wouldn't have to drive back to Lima tonight, because all she wanted to do right now was crawl into her pajamas and go into a food coma.

"Anyone for tea?" Sandy asked as she wandered out from the kitchen with a steaming kettle.

"If I had room for anything else in my body, Aunt Sandy, it would be more of your chocolate cake, not tea," Rachel's cousin Aaron snorted. He was a sophomore at Oberlin, and sported a small gold hoop in one ear and some messy-looking white guy dreads.

"I'll have some tea," another cousin named Shoshi said with sleepy nod. She was a freshman at OSU, and had gone out of her way to smile at Quinn when the boys were rowdy and intimidating. "Thanks, Sandy. Everything was amazing." The group of sleepy, overstuffed cousins all immediately chorused their agreement.

"Well you know how you'll _really_ show me your thanks, don't you kids? It's called, wash every dish in this kitchen tomorrow." They all groaned, but nodded dutifully at the mess on every kitchen surface. When Sandy, Jacob and Michael had all bid them goodnight and gone upstairs to bed, Aaron turned to the group of young cousins remaining and grinned conspiratorially.

"Now time for a little herbal refreshment for the children of Israel," he joked, pulling a fat joint out of his pants pocket. Quinn's eyes went wide, and she immediately turned to Rachel, expecting a massive diva fit from her girlfriend. But much to her surprise, Rachel just rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Aaron, don't you learn from your mistakes? At least take it out into the back yard, where the smell won't waft upstairs and alert the parentals."

"No worries, little cuz, I got you covered," Aaron winked, standing up and throwing a blanket from the couch over his shoulder. "Follow me, children of Israel! To liberation!" They all chuckled and began to get up, and Quinn turned back to Rachel in alarm.

"Are we seriously going outside to get high?"

"You don't have to smoke if you don't want to," Rachel shrugged, her head lolling sleepily on her shoulder as she reached out and played with a lock of Quinn's loose hair. "But it _is_ sort of a family tradition…and it's only once a year. You don't mind if I do it, right?" Quinn's jaw dropped, and she stuttered wordlessly for a moment.

"I can't believe I didn't know you'd smoked pot before," she finally squeaked, glancing out the window at the casually lounging Berry cousins blowing smoke into the night air.

"Are you mad?" Rachel frowned, her relaxed demeanor shifting as she took in her girlfriend's less-than-easygoing reaction.

"Not mad," Quinn shook her head, wrapping both arms around her girlfriend's neck and drawing her close, with a sultry little smile. "Just surprised. And that can be a good thing. I mean, I _did_ come here to participate fully in your family's Passover festivities…what kind of girlfriend would I be if I gave up now, so close to the finish line?"

"You're so completely awesome, Quinn Fabray," Rachel cooed happily, closing the short distance between their lips and kissing her deeply. Quinn felt her body go completely limp against her girlfriend's, returning the kiss with a soft sigh of longing.

"Hey, Rach, let's go! You can make out with your hot shiksa girlfriend anytime!" Aaron's voice floated in through the sliding screen door, making the two girls break apart with a small fit of giggling. Then they followed the sound of soft laughter out into the yard, joining the rest of the Berry cousins to enjoy their stargazing and herbal refreshment.

"Happy Passover, Rach," Quinn murmured, slipping her hand into her girlfriend's and squeezing.

"Happy Passover, my hot little shiksa," Rachel giggled, squeezing back.


	42. I Feel Pretty

Hey everybody! Happy Friday! As I'm writing this, the cast of Glee is traipsing all over my city, and tragically I do not have the time to stalk them the way I want to. I keep seeing pics of them online, in places right up around my hood in the last few days, and it makes me CRAZEEEE! But just knowing they're here is good mojo, anyway :)

So, quick note on this chap as it correlates to the totally bizarre back story in this week's episode. Y'all know I like to incorporate canon plot points as much as possible; but I couldn't make the whole "Lucy Caboosey" thing fit in here even if I wanted to, because I already _have_ a back story where the gleeks have all known each other since elementary school, and Quinn and Rachel first crushed on each other in 3rd grade. So, sorry Lucy Caboosey. I'm not hating, you just don't fit in my story.

But I also think that it's unnecessary in my AU world anyway; because that storyline (on the show) is really just serving to explain why Quinn is so damaged and bitchy most of the time, even though we can see that she's really a good person underneath. But my back story (and the one that I think makes more sense, frankly) is that she's damaged because of all the years of struggling with her sexuality in a repressive Christian home. So take that, Glee writers! You do, however, get a cookie for giving us the most amazing Faberry duet imaginable :)

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 42**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Jesus Christ, Finn! How many times are you planning to mangle my girlfriend's face? New Year's Eve wasn't enough?" Quinn's snarl was low and furious as she stood protectively in front of where Rachel sat on the edge of the stage, blinking dazedly with her hands pressed over her bloody nose.

"It was an _accident_!" Finn exclaimed indignantly. "I didn't even see her!"

"Well that doesn't help Rachel much, does it?" Quinn growled, and pushed Finn as hard as she could. Considering his bulk and her small stature, it didn't accomplish much; but he still looked woefully rebuked as he crouched down beside the bleeding girl and tried to apologize.

"Rach, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I just did that, I totally suck at dancing"—

"There's a newsflash, Frankenteen," Quinn huffed, still looking like she wanted to reach out and throttle him with her bare hands. "Will you just back off and let her breathe? You've done enough for one day, don't you think?"

"Quinn, please, stop yelling," Rachel whimpered, her voice muffled behind her hands, which she still refused to move. "I kind of need you down here."

"I'm here, baby. I'm sorry. Here, let me see…" Quinn dropped anxiously to her knees beside her bleeding girlfriend. When she reached out and gently put her hands on top of Rachel's, the dark-haired girl finally allowed them to be pulled away from her face, so the whole glee club could see her bloody nose, already starting to swell. There was a collective groan of sympathy from the room, which Rachel interpreted as disgust, assuming she looked much worse than she actually did; and she started to cry in pain and humiliation.

"Oh, honey, it's okay," Quinn murmured, wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders and lightly kissing a few tears off her cheek. "Come on, let's get you to a doctor."

"I'll drive," Finn said eagerly, his puppydog expression freezing when Quinn looked up at him with a stare of pure fury. "I have to do _some_thing," he whined in complaint. "I feel terrible about this!"

"I'm really more concerned about making _Rachel _feel better than about making _you_ feel better right now, dumbass," Quinn snapped. "But if you really want to help, go get an ice pack from the nurse's office and meet us at my car. You're _not_ coming. You're just a gopher."

"Totally," Finn nodded anxiously, almost tripping over his feet again as he turned and ran from the room to get the requested ice pack.

"You didn't have to be so rude to him, Quinn," Rachel sighed, taking the Kleenex Kurt offered her and gently tilting her head back to help stop the bleeding. "It was an accident, after all."

"Yeah, tell that to your nose and maybe it'll stop bleeding," Quinn huffed sarcastically. Rachel had to admit, though she really_ wasn't_ angry with Finn, she was still kind of glad that Quinn was. But just a little.

…..

"Your dads will be here any minute, okay little star? You just keep that ice on your face. Are you feeling any better?" Quinn slipped her phone into her pocket as she sat down on the exam table beside her sniffling girlfriend, and wrapped an arm around her small frame.

"No," Rachel whined, dropping her head onto Quinn's shoulder. "It fucking hurts. I hope it's not broken…"

"Oh, it's broken," the doctor confirmed briskly as he waltzed into the room with Rachel's x-ray, clipping it into place on the light board in front of them. Rachel groaned miserably and closed her eyes. Quinn turned and kissed the top of her head. "The good news is, it's a clean break, so I won't have to set it. You should heal just fine, Rachel."

"See, it's not so bad," Quinn cooed, tracing aimless patterns up and down Rachel's arm with her fingertips. "We'll get some chocolate sorbet on the way home, and dope you up on painkillers, and before you know it you'll be good as new, babycakes."

"Or," the doctor interjected politely, "You could be _better_ than new."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked defensively, though she knew in the pit of her stomach _exactly _what he meant. It was the same thing she'd been thinking about ever since Finn's giant beefcake knuckles collided with her nose, and made it look even more oversized than it already was. The same thought that was always somewhere in the back of her mind when she saw a picture of herself from a not-quite ideal angle, next to Quinn…who looked like an angel in every picture, with her perfectly proportioned little nose.

"Well, this could be a great opportunity to fix that deviated septum, Rachel—and make a little vanity adjustment at the same time."

"You mean a _nose job?"_ Quinn squeaked, jostling the shorter girl as she suddenly sat up straight, indignant fury etched in every line of her body.

"Well, yes. How old are you girls—about sixteen? That's how old my daughters were when I gave them theirs. It's like a rite of passage for Jewish girls."

"Maybe for brainwashed daughters of plastic surgeons," Quinn said coldly, narrowing her eyes at the doctor, who just smiled indulgently at her like she was a toddler throwing a tantrum over not getting the right color balloon. "But Rachel doesn't _want _or _need_ anything changed. She's already gorgeous."

"And I also don't want to risk damaging my voice," Rachel added quietly, in a much more subdued tone than Quinn was using. Even if she wasn't sure how bad an idea it was, hearing her beautiful girlfriend defend her so vehemently was undeniably lifting Rachel's spirits a little. Quinn really _was_ a great cheerleader, even without her uniform.

"It doesn't affect the voice," the doctor waved off her concern casually. "That's just a myth. In fact, correcting that deviated septum could actually help you take in more air, and_ improve_ your voice. Really belt out those high notes." The little starlet's eyes glazed over as she considered what the doctor was saying. Was that true? If it _really_ wouldn't hurt her voice…

"Rachel doesn't need any help belting out high notes. And since you just said her nose will heal fine, she doesn't need any more help from _you_, either." Quinn's hostility toward the kindly-looking doctor was coming off her in waves, making her earlier fury with Finn seem like a slumber party pillow fight by comparison.

"I suppose a girl born with such a perfect face couldn't understand what a little nip and tuck could do for your friend here—what kind of opportunities it can provide. If you were really as good a friend as you think you are, dear"—

"I'm not her friend," Quinn snapped, curling her arm possessively around Rachel's shoulders. "I'm her _girlfriend_. And there's nothing you or your scalpel could do to make her _any_ more beautiful to me."

"Quinn, it's all right," Rachel murmured, turning her head so she was speaking low in the blonde girl's ear. "He's just doing his job."

"Yeah, making teenage girls feel insecure about their looks is a really important job," Quinn grumbled; but her voice was quiet, and the hand that had been gripping Rachel's shoulder so tightly started to relax. She was losing steam.

"I'm sorry if I offended you girls," the doctor said amicably, taking a step back with his hands behind his back, the small smile on his face suggesting that he was perfectly used to having teenagers rant in his office. "Just think about it, Rachel. If you're serious about being an actress, you might want to consider looking the part." Quinn narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't speak again.

Soon enough, Rachel's dads arrived, and Michael spoke with the doctor at great length before he was satisfied that his daughter had received the best possible care and treatment. Jacob, meanwhile, just hugged her and promised to make her favorite vegan lasagna when they got home. Quinn offered to go to the grocery store so Rachel could go straight home with her dads; but Rachel whined that she needed Quinn to cuddle her, so Jacob and Michael indulgently offered to do the shopping themselves and let the girls go straight home in Quinn's car.

….

"So…" Rachel cleared her throat awkwardly a short while later, glancing across the passenger seat of Quinn's little red Chevy at her girlfriend's profile as she drove. Quinn really _did_ look perfect from every conceivable angle. "Did you…really mean what you said back there? Or were you just trying to protect me?"

"It's been a long time since I said anything I didn't mean, Rach," Quinn said gently, her voice soft and unguarded now that it was just the two of them again. "You should know that."

"So you really don't think I'd look better with a _slightly_ smaller nose? I want you to be completely, totally honest with me, Quinn."

"I _am_ being totally honest with you, Rach," Quinn sighed, her hazel eyes full of anguish when she looked over at her girlfriend's bruised face. "I don't want you to change, period. You're already the most perfect Rachel Berry you could possibly be; there's just no room for improvement. Don't let that idiot have the power to make you doubt yourself, baby. He's just looking for a fat paycheck."

"So you're saying you never want me to change my hairstyle or the way I dress? What if I had to go blonde for a part, or get a pixie cut? Would you be having the same reaction?"

"Rachel…" Quinn groaned, staring miserably at the road in front of her.

"Or what if _you_ decide you want to change?" Rachel continued, building up steam in her usual Rachel-Berry-on-a-tirade manner. "What if you go through a rebellious punk phase in college and want to get something pierced, or dye your hair pink, or get a tattoo? Should I tell you the same thing you're telling me now?"

"That's not a fair comparison, Rachel."

"Why not?"

"Because those things aren't permanent!" Quinn exploded angrily, jerking to a stop at a red light. "If you get a crazy haircut and you don't like it, you can change it. If you pierce your eyebrow and realize you look like a crackhead, you can take it out. But if you let some asshole cut up your face…that's forever. And _your_ face—the face I love more than anything in the whole world—would be gone." Quinn's voice cracked, but she didn't realize she was crying until Rachel reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek, beaming at her like she'd just discovered a cure for cancer.

"You really love me," Rachel murmured, brushing a few more tears from Quinn's porcelain cheek.

_"Really_ love you," Quinn nodded, sniffling softly as she gave her awestruck girlfriend a watery smile. "And I really wouldn't change _any_thing about you, baby. Not a thing." The light was still red, so they took the opportunity to lean across the seats and share a soft, gentle kiss (especially gentle because Quinn was afraid to jostle Rachel's bruised face). Only the honking of the cars behind them made them realize that the light had turned, and Quinn hastily sat back into the driver's seat and pulled through the intersection, as Rachel smiled quietly to herself.

"So you think I'd look good with pink hair?" Quinn teased.

"Totally," Rachel smirked. "Especially if you still have those matching pink eyelashes from your Bad Romance costume…you'd make such a sexy little punk rocker, baby." Quinn snickered and rolled her eyes.

When they got back to the Berry house, Quinn fussed over Rachel and cuddled up to her on the couch, tucking the faded old afghan around her and letting her have undisputed control over the remote. Rachel was just getting comfy with her back pressed against Quinn's warm stomach when they both felt Quinn's phone vibrating in her pocket.

"Is that a phone vibrating in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Rachel murmured, giggling woozily.

"I think somebody's pain meds are starting to kick in," Quinn teased gently, slipping the phone out of her pocket and holding it up so she could see the screen. Frowning, she realized that there had actually been a bunch of missed calls and texts in the last hour, all from her mom. She opened the most recent one. _Come home asap_ was all it said. An icy feeling of dream filled her stomach as she hit home on the speed dial. _Come home_, her mom had said, not _call_…but this could be anything, and Quinn wasn't leaving Rachel all alone with a broken nose unless it was a _real_ emergency.

"Quinnie?" Her mother's voice was breathless on the phone, as if she'd just run from one end of the house to the other to answer the phone. "I've been trying to reach you for an hour!"

"Calm down, mom, I'm right here. What's the big deal? Why are you freaking out?"

"I am not _freaking out_," Judy said indignantly, and Quinn was oddly comforted. She could practically hear the air quotes when her mom said _freaking out_. "But I do need you to come home, sweetheart. Right now. There's an important family matter we have to discuss."

"Mom, there was an accident at glee rehearsal today and Rachel broke her nose. I really don't want to leave right now. Can't you just tell me over the phone?"

"I'm sorry to hear about Rachel, sweetheart, but I really need you to"—in the background, another female voice chimed in. _Why are you pandering to her? Just tell her she has to come!_

"Is that Grace?" Quinn asked warily, the little hairs at the back of her neck tingling unpleasantly as her memory of her last meeting with her sister bubbled up, warring with the magnetic pull that surged from the bottom of her stomach toward her sister's voice. She did miss her big sister, after all.

"Yes, your sister is here, Quinn, and she needs to speak to you. _We_ need to speak to you, as a family. Please just come home, sweetheart."

"Mom, you're freaking me out," Quinn said warily, glancing at Rachel, who was now looking at her with a confused, worried expression on her bruised face. "I'm coming home, okay? But can you please just tell me"—

"Your father's in the hospital," Judy interjected abruptly, spitting out the words as if she were tearing off a Band-Aid. "He's in end-stage liver failure, honey. And he wants to see you."

….

After promising Rachel that she'd call if she needed anything, and that she'd be perfectly all right, _and_ pausing to deliver the world's gentlest kiss to the tip of her girlfriend's broken nose, Quinn was out the door and speeding home as fast as rush hour traffic in Lima would allow. She was confused, scared, and vaguely nauseous when she turned the key in the lock and let herself into the house, finding her mom and her sister sitting rigidly at the kitchen table, each with a martini in front of them.

"Do I get one of those?" Quinn joked weakly as she dropped her backpack and walked over to her mom, giving her a tight hug. She could see the resentment in her sister's eyes as she glanced over her mother's shoulder. Obviously, Grace still hadn't forgiven her little sister for her sins, and she wasn't pleased that their mother had.

"No, but you can have a sip of mine," Judy offered with a fragile smile. Quinn snorted and shook her head.

"Mom, I was kidding. I don't want a martini. I want you to tell me what's going on."

"You'd know that yourself if you hadn't gotten a restraining order barring your own father from coming within a thousand feet of you," Grace snapped venomously. Quinn blinked incredulously, feeling the hurt blossom in her chest, just like it had the last time her sister had spoken to her over a year ago. She knew she was in the right, but that didn't change the sadness she felt at having her sister look at her like that; like she was something disgusting stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe.

"Gracie, you promised," Judy chided gently, but Quinn just shook her head.

"No, it's okay Mom. If Grace thinks I would've been better off letting Daddy beat me up as much as he wanted, she might as well say so." Quinn caught her sister's ice blue eyes and stared at her until she looked away.

"I suppose _turn the other cheek_ doesn't mean much to you now that you've turned your back on Jesus, does it?" Grace asked sadly, wiping away a tear that streaked down her face.

"I haven't turned my back on Jesus, Grace," Quinn sighed, sitting down in a chair across from her sister. "Just the Catholic Church. And I'm perfectly willing to turn the other cheek…as long as it's to listen and not to get physically abused again."

"Our father is dying, Quinn. He's not a threat to you." Tears welled up in Quinn's eyes to match her sister's as she turned to her mother beseechingly.

"Mom? Is it true?"

"Yes, honey, I'm afraid it is," Judy nodded gently, putting a hand on Quinn's arm. "Apparently he's been in and out of the hospital for the past few months, and he's been on the list for a liver transplant, but…it may be too late now. Grace has been in to see him, and…he's been asking for you, honey."

"But what about the restraining order?"

"He won't get in any trouble if you're the one who goes to see him, Quinnie. But it's up to you—you don't have to go if you don't want to, or if you don't feel safe."

"Oh for pete's sake, this is ridiculous," Grace fumed, standing up abruptly and crossing her arms. "It's her fault he's dying, and _she's_ the one who doesn't feel safe? Give me a break!"

"I'm sorry, it's _my_ fault Dad spent our lives slowly drinking himself to death?" Quinn asked hotly, turning to her sister with her own steely gaze.

"You just couldn't toe the line, could you Quinn? You just have to stir up trouble and be the center of attention. You do whatever you want, not a care in the world for the shame you bring on this family. Getting pregnant wasn't bad enough for you, now you have to go around town flaunting your deviant lifestyle with that…that little heathen pervert…"

"That's enough, Grace," Judy said firmly, putting a hand on Quinn's shoulder to steady her when she started to tremble. "You don't need to bring Rachel into this. She's a wonderful girl, and she loves your sister tremendously. I know it's difficult for you to understand…it is for me, too…but love is love. It certainly isn't hurting anyone." Quinn looked up at her mother's face with tears blurring her vision, touched beyond words.

"How can you say that, Mom?" Grace demanded, tears springing to her blue eyes as she looked furiously from her mother to her little sister, who was already crying quietly. "How can you say she isn't hurting anyone? Dad's dying because of her sin! He drank himself half to death because of her shame! _Neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor male prostitutes, nor homosexual offenders, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor slanderers, nor swindlers, will inherit the kingdom of God_. 1 Corinthians 6:9."

"This is insane," Quinn shook her head, wiping her eyes roughly on the back of her hand. "You're trying to make the most beautiful thing in my world into something ugly just because of some moldy piece of scripture? The bible _also_ has passages that say it's okay for a man to have multiple wives or sell his children into slavery. It says that if a woman can't prove she's a virgin on her wedding night, she should be stoned to death. It says eating _shellfish_ is a cardinal sin. You really think that stuff should trump what's in my heart?"

"You're taking those things out of context"—

"So are you!" Quinn yelled, standing up so abruptly that her chair clattered backwards and fell to the floor.

"That's enough, girls!" Judy snapped, fixing both her daughters in turn with her own ice blue glare. They were all silent for a few moments, catching their breath, before she spoke again. "I know this is difficult for both of you. But Grace, you will _not _blame your sister. Your father's drinking problem _long_ predates the last two years' worth of change in all our lives. And you might _also_ remember that adulterers and drunkards are mentioned in that verse you just quoted, too—it doesn't seem that your father's sins have lessened your love for him any. Spread your judgment out equally, at least."

"I…I still love you, Quinn," Grace said quietly, a note of contrition entering her voice for the first time. "I don't understand the choices you've made, but…you're still my baby sister."

"Love isn't a choice, Grace," Quinn shook her head, no longer bothering to wipe away her tears. "The only choice I made was to be honest about it."

"I don't want to fight anymore," Grace sniffed, taking a Kleenex from the kitchen table and delicately dabbing at her eyes. "I just want to honor our father's dying wishes. He wants us both there, Quinn. Will you come?"

Quinn looked at her sister's face, full of sadness and confusion. For a moment, she was snapped back vividly to a memory from her childhood, of a night when Grace was supposed to be watching her; but they'd had a fight over something silly—Quinn couldn't even remember what—and she'd run from her sister and hidden in a dark corner of her parents' closet. She'd been five or six at the time, which meant Grace couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen; young enough to panic when she couldn't find her little sister after a few minutes of searching.

Quinn had enjoyed the sound of her sister's increasingly urgent yells for her, up until a real note of desperation and panic entered the older girl's voice. When she heard her big sister start to cry, knowing it was out of worry for _her_, Quinn started to cry, too, and burst from her hiding place in sorrowful apology. They'd hugged and cried for what seemed like forever…and then they ate ice cream and cuddled on the couch watching scary movies until Quinn fell asleep. She knew Grace hadn't told on her for running away, because she never got in trouble.

Looking up at those same worried blue eyes now, Quinn smiled sadly and squeezed her sister's hand. "I'll come," she nodded.


	43. Born This Way

Hey gleeks!

In conjunction with this chapter, I have a request for you all. If you went to (or currently go to) a high school that has prom kings and queens, can you plz tell me in your reviews the basics of how it works? I'm pretty sure the way they showed it on Glee isn't 100% realistic, but truthfully I have no idea, since I went to crazy elite prep school and we didn't have stuff like that. (Other things we did not have include football, cheerleaders, Homecoming, etc). We did have prom of course! Just not the royal court thing.

So if you can, please tell me in your reviews:

1) How does the voting for prom king/queen happen?

2) Do people actually _campaign_ for it, like with posters and stuff, as we saw on the show?

3) Do a guy and a girl always run together as a couple, or is it just a list of girls and a list of guys, and everyone picks one of each?

Thanks guys! Your reviews are awesome, plz keep 'em coming. Enjoy the chapter!

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 43**

**By JewWitch**

…

Though the doctor who met them in the hospital waiting room had explained the cause and effect of Russell Fabray's current condition (the cause being roughly 20 years if alcohol abuse, though they discussed it in medical terms that made it sound innocent, like the cells had simply been attacked by a foreign invader; and the effect being acute liver failure, resulting in jaundice, weakness and mental confusion), Quinn was still unprepared for the sight of her father lying in the hospital bed.

He didn't look anything like the man she used to be so afraid of. He was gaunt and thin, his cheekbones standing out starkly against his face, which had a sickly yellow tinge that made him look like he'd allowed a preschooler to color all over his skin with magic marker. His eyes were rheumy, weak and unfocused; but when he saw his two daughters standing in the doorway, he lit up and smiled widely, in a pale imitation of the way Quinn remembered him looking at her when she was a little girl; before she'd grown up and disappointed him.

"My girls," Russell murmured hoarsely, reaching out one arm weakly from where it lay on top of the sheets, with an IV line taped to the back of his hand. "My precious jewels. Come and sit with your father." Obediently, Quinn followed her sister and sat in one of the hard plastic chairs beside the hospital bed. She felt sick and scared in the pit of her stomach, and she was grateful beyond belief that her mother was waiting right outside.

"Hi Daddy," Grace said warmly, leaning down and kissing his jaundiced cheek. "Look who I found." Her voice was full of love, the soft, gentle, everything-will-be-alright tone of voice that Grace would use when Quinn was little and had a skinned knee or a fever, and looked to her sister for comfort. It was a voice Quinn hadn't heard in over two years. She felt the tears burning against the back of her eyes, and took a deep breath to push them back.

"My baby girl," Russell beamed weakly, reaching out for Quinn's hand. Quinn automatically reached back and clasped her father's hand, feeling the feebleness of his grip as he squeezed her fingers. "I've missed you so very much, Quinnie."

"Hi Dad," Quinn said softly, trying her best to give her father a smile. He may have many faults, but he was still her father; and he was dying. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I...didn't know."

"It's all right, sweetheart." He waved her off weakly. "I have many sins to atone for. I was hoping I'd have the chance to redeem myself before we met again...but it looks like Our Heavenly Father has other plans for me." Quinn could hear her sister starting to sniffle softly in the chair next to her.

"Isn't there anything the doctors can do?" Quinn asked helplessly, looking from her father to her sister, who was now looking back at her with pity rather than malice.

"They've done all they can, I'm afraid." Russell patted Quinn's hand, and his skin felt rough and dry, like old paper. "I've brought this disease on myself, and now it's time to face up to the Lord's punishment." Quinn wanted to say that disease wasn't a punishment from God; that it was just biology, not a game of Chutes and Ladders. But instead she just swallowed and nodded. "I'm afraid you're being punished for my sins as well, Quinn. That's why I asked your sister to bring you here...I need to do what I can to atone before I die."

"No, don't say that," Quinn choked, hearing her sister crying quietly beside her. "It's okay Dad, it's gonna be okay"—

"No, Quinnie, it's not okay. You need to listen to me...I can promise you, this will be the last time I ask you for anything." Quinn wanted to keep refusing, but her throat muscles felt like they were frozen, and she couldn't speak. "After what happened last year, I realized something," Russell continued quietly. "I thought I had done everything I could to be a good father to you...I thought my drinking was my own sin, not a part of your life, or your sister's, or your mother's. I thought I could separate my life as your father from my life as a sinful man of the world of business, and worldly pleasures. But I was wrong, sweetheart. I know that now. I know that my sin has corrupted you by example."

"What? No, Dad, that's not..."

"Hush, just let me finish." Russell was panting now, getting slightly short of breath, and Quinn watched nervously as her sister jumped up and fetched a plastic cup of water from the tray table beside the hospital bed.

"Thank you, Gracie," Russell murmured, accepting the water and taking a few shallow sips before he continued. "What I'm trying to tell you, Quinn, is that I'm finally taking responsibility for my sins— and yours. It wasn't your fault, Quinn; it was mine. And I'm the one who needs to ask the Lord's forgiveness for you. Please, will you pray with me?"

"What? I don't understand..." Quinn shook her head, feeling her stomach turn inside out and twist itself into a tight knot. She _did_ understand; she just didn't want to.

"Your sins are my punishment from God," Russell explained, in the gentlest voice Quinn had ever heard from her father's mouth. He wasn't yelling or judging; there was a calm in his voice now, a peace, like he understood life's mysteries for the first time and simply wanted to share them. "I know now that it was my own sinful example that made you into a sinner too, Quinnie. It's too late for me to make amends now; but I can still ask forgiveness, for both of us. It may not be enough to grant me eternal life at His side...but that's not important now. All I want is for you to be forgiven before I die. You deserve to go to Heaven, sweetheart. It's not too late."

Quinn stared at her father in horror, feeling the hot tears streaming freely down her face. She understood now what her father's dying wish was...he wanted her to ask forgiveness from God for being gay. The painful knot in her stomach started to throb like an open wound. "Dad...I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Grace asked bitterly, and Quinn just shook her head hopelessly.

"Shh, it's all right Grace," Russell murmured, reaching his hand from Quinn to her sister. Grace started to cry harder, shooting Quinn a reproachful look through her tears. "Remember what Jesus said: _Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. _We're all sinners on this earth, after all." That shut Grace up, though she continued to sniffle quietly.

"Quinn," Russell continued, refocusing his weak eyes on his younger daughter. "It's all right if you're not ready to let Jesus back into your heart. He loves you anyway...and so do I, no matter what."

"I love you too, Daddy," Quinn whispered, squeezing his papery hand in both of her own.

"I know, sweetheart. I know. Please, if you aren't ready to pray with me, then just let me pray over you...it's the only thing I want to do before I die." A lump that felt like stone rose up in Quinn's throat and lodged there, momentarily taking away her breath and her voice. It felt like a knife going through her heart. She looked silently at her father's face, weak and feeble, and full of love for her. He would never be proud of who she was...he would never go to a PFLAG meeting, or dance at her wedding, or live to meet his grandchildren. But he loved her, and he forgave her. Even though it rankled, she couldn't call it hate; not now, as he lay dying.

"Okay," she nodded quietly, feeling the tears streaking hot and wet down her face. Russell beamed.

"Heavenly Father," he began quietly, his deep baritone filling the room in a way that made him sound young and strong and healthy again, as he closed his eyes and gripped Quinn's hands gently in his own. "I ask forgiveness today for my sins, for adultery and drunkenness, for vanity and selfishness, and all the things I've done for my own glory rather than Yours. I know now that it is Your will that I atone with my life, and I accept Your will as my own, Lord." Quinn sniffled and squeezed her eyes shut, too, not wanting to see her father looking the way he did anymore. Though his words were painful, his voice sounded like the voice she remembered from when she was little, when he loved her easily and freely, when he put her on his shoulders and called her his princess.

"But I beg you, Lord," Russell continued, "To forgive my daughter before you forgive me. Without a firm hand and a true Christian home, she's been seduced by the temptations of the flesh. Her sins are merely a reflection of my own, Heavenly Father. I pray to your son Jesus Christ, and to the Holy Spirit, that you lead her out of temptation and back to the path of righteousness, so that she may return to her rightful place by your side in the eternal hereafter."

It all felt so wrong, sitting there quietly and letting her father ask God to forgive her for the sin of loving Rachel._ It's not a sin, it's not a sin,_ she told herself over and over in her head as her father prayed, and she began to lose track of what he was saying. She was crying so hard, her nose started to run; but she didn't want to let go of her father's hands, knowing this might be the last time she ever held them, so she just sniffled and held on tight.

As her father continued to pray for her, another voice, louder and clearer than her father's, began playing inside her head. Whether it was a pop culture overload, or the result of the positive influence of glee club, or an actual message from God, Quinn had no idea; but she heard Lady Gaga singing in her head, loud and clear, telling her she was on the right track and she was born to be brave. A flicker of a smile ghosted across her lips.

When she opened her teary eyes, Quinn realized her father had stopped speaking, and was now fast asleep, his hands still folded over her own. She gently slipped her hands from his grip, wiped her eyes, and leaned down to kiss his yellowed cheek. Then with a deep breath, she turned to her sister, who was also wiping her eyes and taking deep, steadying breaths. "Wanna come home for dinner?" Quinn asked quietly, offering her sister a weak smile.

"Mark is waiting for me," Grace shook her head, but she reached out and squeezed Quinn's fingers in her own. "But...maybe another day?"

"That would be nice," Quinn nodded, allowing her big sister to pull her into a tight hug.

"I do love you, baby bug," Grace whispered, and Quinn held on as hard as she could, eyes squeezed shut as she breathed in the familiar scent of her big sister's hairspray, mixed with her vanilla face cream.

"I love you too, ladybug," Quinn sniffed, smiling through her tears.

...

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Quinn called Rachel's house; but she wasn't all that surprised when Michael told her that Rachel was asleep, knocked out from the painkillers, and would probably sleep straight through the night. Of course he told her she could come over anyway if she wanted to; and though Quinn knew in every corner of her heart that Rachel's dads would be more than happy to spend the night listening to her talk and cry about her dying father, she also knew that her own mother was right in the next room, waiting for her with take-out menus and a pile of DVDs. So she told Michael to give Rachel a hug from her when she woke up, and exchanged quiet _I love you's_ with her girlfriend's family before going to join her mom on the couch.

"How's Rachel?" Judy asked when Quinn returned, curling up on the couch with her head resting on her mom's shoulder.

"Sleeping. She's a total lightweight with painkillers. But she'll be okay."

"And how are _you_, baby?" Judy prodded gently, running her fingers lightly through Quinn's blonde hair, identical to her own.

"I'm..." Quinn sighed and closed her eyes. "I don't know. Kind of numb, I guess. But I'll be okay, too...I'm just glad I'm here with you, Mom."

"Me too, sweetheart." Judy hugged her daughter tightly, and Quinn could feel both their heartbeats as she curled herself up in her mother's arms.

...

Quinn felt lousy in the morning, like she was just waking up from another round of mono; she was weak and shaky and exhausted, and part of her wanted to pull the covers over her head and go back to sleep. She knew her mom wouldn't make her go to school today. But she also wanted to see Rachel, desperately...both for her own comfort and to make sure her girlfriend was healing all right from the previous day's accident. Plus, the idea of staying home alone with her thoughts all day was not particularly appealing. So she drank two cups of coffee and dragged herself out the door, her spirit brightening considerably when she pulled up in front of Rachel's house and saw the dark-haired girl emerging from her own front door, with a little wave and a smile just for her.

"Aw, poor little face," Quinn cooed when Rachel slipped into the passenger seat, taking her girlfriend's face gently in one hand and inspecting it closely. The swelling had gone down dramatically from the day before, replaced with deep purple bruising peeking out from behind the bandage across the bridge of her nose, slowly settling into two black eyes. "I wish it was me instead of you."

"I don't," Rachel sighed with a wistful shake of her head. "As crappy as I feel today, it's not half as bad as how I felt when I woke up the morning after…you know, when your dad hit you…and I saw you lying there with a black eye and a split lip. That hurt a million times worse than this, believe me."

"Sweet talker," Quinn murmured, leaning in and pressing her lips lightly to the bruises on either side of her girlfriend's face. The little diva closed her eyes and hummed contentedly, twirling her fingers through the soft hair at the back of the blonde girl's neck.

"Well aren't we a pair today," Rachel sighed with a little half-smirk when she sat back, taking Quinn's face in one hand and inspecting the dark half-circles under the blonde girl's eyes. "At least everyone will feel nice and sorry for us."

"Do I really look that bad?" Quinn asked, half-joking as she leaned her cheek into Rachel's touch with a sigh of contentment.

"Do I?" Rachel countered, still with a playful half-smile on her face. Quinn was pretty sure the dark-haired girl would _not_ be making light of her current predicament if she hadn't also been trying to take Quinn's mind off her dying father; and it made her heart ache a little less.

"Nah," she shrugged. "If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell them they should have seen the other guy." Rachel gave a small snort of laughter, then winced painfully.

"Ow. Shit. Don't make me laugh, okay babe?"

"Sorry little star," Quinn sighed sympathetically, leaning across the seat to give her girlfriend another extra-gentle kiss. "All better?"

"Mmm...not yet. I can has more?"

"You can has all you want," Quinn smiled, leaning in and kissing Rachel more deeply, though with the same gentle deliberation, determined not to cause her girlfriend any more physical pain than she had already suffered.

"Yummy," Rachel sighed happily when Quinn pulled away. "I think I just got an extra cup of coffee from that kiss."

"And I got half a vegan banana smoothie," Quinn teased, flipping on the radio. Lady Gaga was playing, and they both smiled and immediately began to sing along, their voices harmonizing naturally._ I'm beautiful in my way, 'cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track baby, I was born this way..._

"Geez, you both look like roadkill," Santana said when she saw Quinn and Rachel getting out of their car in the parking lot. Quinn was ready to snarl at her for her insensitivity before the Latina added, in a much gentler voice, "Are you okay?" Quinn looked at Rachel, who was looking back at her; both of them waiting to hear each other's self-assessment before they made their own. They grinned at each other sheepishly, and fell into step beside their friends, one of Quinn's hands playing absently with a lock of Rachel's hair over her shoulder.

"We're okay, San," Quinn nodded with a weary smile. "Thanks for asking."

….

The school day passed quickly, with both Quinn and Rachel finding themselves the center of attention and sympathy as the gossip mill circulated the stories of both their misfortune. Everyone wanted to know whether Finn had really punched Rachel in the face for stealing his girlfriend (yeah, Rachel said sarcastically to one overexcited sophomore; it just took him a year and a half to work up the nerve), and if Quinn had in fact been sent on an overnight trip to an ex-gay Christian camp.

Though the attention was almost entirely positive (Rachel had been right about the sympathy factor, after all; they were apparently still as popular as ever), both girls got tired of correcting the same silly rumors over and over again. They grew weary and short-tempered as the day dragged on, as Rachel's nose was throbbing by lunch, and Quinn was so exhausted she didn't even take notes in her afternoon classes.

"For the last time," the blonde girl sighed wearily as they all waited for Mr. Schue to arrive at glee rehearsal, "I didn't get sent to Exodus International. I just went to see my dad in the hospital...and, um..." she paused here, looking to Rachel uncertainly. She hadn't actually told anyone other than her girlfriend about what had happened in her father's hospital room. But these were her friends, and she trusted them. She wanted them to know. Rachel smiled at her and nodded encouragingly, her brown eyes shining with love. "He's dying of liver failure. He asked me if he could pray over me before he died...so I said yes. I sat there and held his hands while he prayed for God to save me from the sin of homosexuality."

"Oh _hell _no," Mercedes' voice was the loudest over the general outcry from the gleeks, all looking outraged on her behalf. It made her love them even more fiercely.

"Guys, it's okay," Quinn shook her head, smiling softly for the first time all afternoon. "If that's what my dad needs so he can die in peace...it's not like it really did me any harm to let him."

"How can you say that, Quinn?" Kurt exclaimed shrilly. "Your father's dying wish is for you to be a different person, and you don't think that's doing you any harm?"

"Nope," Quinn shook her head again, feeling her girlfriend's warm fingers squeeze her own. "Not really. If we had more time…maybe I'd have had the chance to educate him, make him see that this is who I am, and that nothing can change it. But…we don't have time." Quinn's voice cracked a little, and she felt several hands patting her back and squeezing her shoulders in silent commiseration, warming her with love for her fellow gleeks. "This was the only way he had to show me he still loves me, even though he thinks I'm a sinner. And it really was okay…because while he was praying, I had a secret forcefield of Lady Gaga playing on a loop in my head."

"Sweet," Brittany smiled, giving Quinn a high five. Just then, Mr. Schue walked in briskly, his face lit up with excitement for their continued preparations for Nationals.

"Mr. Schue?" Kurt raised his hand with a wicked smile. "We need to sing Lady Gaga today."

"You know, Kurt? I couldn't agree more," Mr. Schue nodded, beaming as he stepped aside for Ms. Pillsbury, who was wheeling a bulky, black metallic machine into the choir room. "Today, we're all going to reclaim our shame, with a little help from your two favorite teachers." When they all looked at him blankly, he elaborated—"Me and Lady Gaga!"

They spent the afternoon rehearsing their newest number and making t-shirts with Ms. Pillsbury's printing press; Quinn was a little surprised how giddy it made her feel to wear the word QUEERIO splashed across her chest, while Rachel smiled sheepishly when her NOSE shirt was displayed. Santana chose QUEERIO, too, and Quinn was even more surprised at how much warmth and security it gave her to see her best friend smiling back at her when they both saw each other's shirts. The rest of the club made similar shirts that showed off the things they usually didn't brag about; Brittany's said I'M WITH STOOPID, with an arrow pointing to her head, while Puck had the same message but with an arrow pointing south instead. There was FOUR EYES, BROWN EYES, CAN'T DANCE and CAN'T SING, BAD ATTITUDE, LIKES BOYS, and NO WEAVE (Quinn didn't really get that one, but she didn't want to seem like an ignorant racist by asking the wrong question, so she let it slide).

When they got up on stage and sang their song to an audience of two (Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury), it really felt like they were singing to each other. Telling each other what they had such a hard time telling themselves; that they were all beautiful, that God had made them perfect, that they should love themselves as much as they loved each other. By the end of rehearsal, Quinn's emotional exhaustion had been replaced by a kinetic hum of energy and excitement beneath her skin, that stayed with her as they all left the auditorium and encountered a crowd of students around the bulletin board in the hallway.

"What's the fuss?" Quinn asked a Cheerio walking away from the throng.

"Like you don't know," the girl snorted, with a roll of her eyes. Quinn just looked at her blankly. "Prom court nominations, duh. And I'll save you the trouble of fighting through that crowd: you're on it."


	44. Something to Believe In

Hey Gleeks! Here's a nice fluffy chapter to follow all the heavy stuff recently. Unrelated, did y'all hear that this summer's Glee live tour is going to be filmed and released as a movie in August? In 3D! Kind of massively silly, but I for one won't be complaining—me and my friends tried SO HARD to get tix to the live show here in NYC last summer, and we were pretty much devastated when the whole thing sold out in three minutes. This isn't _quite _as awesome as seeing it live would've been, but I'll take it! Enjoy the chapter :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 44**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Rach?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you believe in God?"

The dark-haired girl looked up from her homework and put her head in her hand, giving her girlfriend a long, measured look before replying. "Yeah. I do. But I don't believe in the personified God of Western Monotheism."

"What does _that_ mean?" Quinn asked doubtfully, raising one eyebrow in mild confusion.

"It means, I don't believe in the idea of God as a guy with a white beard who sits up in the clouds and watches us, and has thoughts and opinions about human affairs, and exerts his will over us, like the Wizard of Oz or something."

"So you like the African fertility Goddess better, huh?" Quinn teased, smirking playfully as she twirled a lock of hair absently around her fingertips.

"No, that's just the point—any idea of God that's limited to the notion of the human form is just fundamentally not something I can believe in as the all-powerful source of creation. I mean, think about it. If God were this magic person—man or woman—who just sat up in Heaven pulling strings, why would he or she let so much terrible stuff happen in the world? Slavery, genocide, babies born with debilitating birth defects? I just don't think that human affairs are something that God micro-manages. God isn't some sadistic puppet-master who rewards good behavior and punishes bad behavior."

"So what kind of God _do_ you believe in, then?" Quinn asked, looking a little more confused and a little more uncomfortable as she put her school books aside and turned towards Rachel on the bed, crossing her legs and playing with a loose hem on the cuff of her jeans.

"Well…I believe that evolution _is_ an intelligent design," Rachel shrugged, "and that the source of all creation isn't something that human beings have the capacity to _ever _truly understand. So we do the best we can to be mindful and treat each other with love and compassion, and when we do that, we tap into that basic fabric of creation that ties us all together. And _that's_ God. It's not _out there_ somewhere; it's everywhere. That's what the Kabbalah says, anyway."

"The Jewish book of mysticism?"

"Well, it's actually a bunch of books, but yeah. There's a lot of stuff in there that seems like the rabbis who wrote it were a bunch of crazy stoners, but I find it a lot easier to relate to than the Bible itself. Like, there's a story about how God created the world because he was lonely; because all that existed was God. So he shattered the eternal light, and used the shards to create the world; and whenever you do a mitzvah—that's a good deed or an act of kindness—you make one of those sparks fly back up to God and reunite with the whole. So we're all part of God; the idea that we're separate is just an illusion."

Quinn listened intently, cocking her head with a small smile. "I really like that," she said after a moment. "But what about the Bible?" Rachel just shrugged.

"I really don't lose a lot of sleep over the Bible. I think it's holy only because we believe in it; and I think it was written by human beings, not by God. Does it have some good stuff in it? Yeah, sure it does. But it also has some bat-shit crazy stuff, too, and frankly I don't think it's worth the energy we devote to it as modern, rational Americans trying to reconcile the idea that we should embrace every single thing in there as if it came straight from the mouth of God. Plus, I mean, no offense, but this is where Christianity really made a mess of things, trying to make all these black-and-white rules from something that was never meant to be taken literally."

"Jews don't take the Bible literally? You mean, lefty American progressive Jews, right?"

"Well, yeah, but even a strict Orthodox Jew will tell you that there's more than one way to interpret any single line of biblical text. We've been arguing over all our different interpretations for five thousand years, and I don't think the average Jew is losing any sleep over our lack of consensus. We _like_ to argue. We have another whole set of holy books called the Talmud, which is basically just a record of all the arguments between the first century rabbis over _their_ different interpretations of Torah. And that's _before_ you even throw in the issue of translation. You have _no idea_ how many different ways every word of biblical Hebrew can be translated into English."

"You speak Hebrew?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Just bits and pieces from Sunday School and my Bat Mitzvah, but enough to know that it's not as straightforward as the King James Bible makes it out to be. Like, you know the line about _an eye for an eye_, right?"

"Of course," Quinn nodded.

"Pretty much used as a justification for every holy war in human history, wouldn't you say?"

"Probably," Quinn shrugged.

"Okay, well, what would you say if I told you that the original Hebrew text for that line actually says, ayin tachat ayin—an eye _under _an eye."

"What does _that _mean?" Quinn frowned.

"Well, see, that's a good question. You can't just snap your fingers and claim to know; you have to look at other examples of how that word is used in other biblical verses to get a functional definition. And I honestly don't remember all the other examples our rabbi gave when he told us this story in Sunday School, but I _do_ remember that the meaning was something along the lines of, holding up or supporting the person you hurt. You know, like if you gouge out my eyes, then you have to _become_ my eyes and help me do all the things I can't do on my own anymore. How would it help me if you gouged out your own eyes?"

"An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," Quinn replied with a small smile, quoting a bumper sticker she'd seen when she visited her sister at college that had always stuck with her.

"Exactly," Rachel nodded. "It would just be nice if more people realized that you're not really fighting _against _the Bible when you argue stuff like that. That's the problem with Christianity—no room for dissent. Judaism has never been about everyone believing the exact same thing; it's just about being thoughtful and using your own God-given best judgment with the material you have. I mean, I still don't believe that the Bible is the actual word of God; but it _is_ my cultural heritage, and I think it's worth holding onto." Quinn stared at her, smiling cryptically, for a long, silent moment. "What?" Rachel finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I think I want us to raise our kids Jewish," Quinn said simply, without a hint of irony or sarcasm. Rachel stared at her blankly for a moment; then she smiled a dazzling, Rachel-Berry-Gold-Star smile, and burst into tears. "Oh, Rach! I'm sorry, did I freak you out? I shouldn't have said that. It was totally presumptuous. Forget I said anything about the future, okay? Please don't cry baby…"

"Shut up and kiss me," Rachel beamed through her tears. Quinn laughed in heady relief, wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck and kissed her, homework utterly forgotten.

…..

"So I hear we have a potential Prom Queen in our midst," Jacob said with a flourish as he passed the salad bowl around the dinner table, wiggling his eyebrows delightedly at Quinn. "How are the odds shaping up? Any formal polling to report?" Quinn groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"I _told_ you to keep your mouth shut," Michael hummed in a sing-song voice of I-told-you-so delight to his husband, who had a look of frank astonishment on his face at this less-than-enthusiastic reaction to his declaration.

"What? It's an honor to be nominated, one way or the other. It's a nice thing. Can't I be proud?"

"It's fine, I'm sorry Jacob. I just kind of wish I could fly under the radar on this one," Quinn sighed, poking half-heartedly at her salad.

"Right, because nothing says _shy little wallflower_ like becoming captain of the Cheerios two years in a row," Jacob said, his mild sarcasm tempered by the delighted smirk on his face.

"And once again, Mr. Sensitivity strikes at will," Rachel sighed, glaring at her dad. "Can you not think of _any_ reasons why Quinn might feel a little weird about this?"

"What? I think it's wonderful that your school has evolved enough to nominate someone gay to prom court. If they're not making it an issue, why should you?"

"I'm just worried, that's all," Quinn sighed, staring down studiously at her plate. "I really don't want any more negative attention this year, you know? I don't want to be another Constance McMillen. I just want to be a normal girl at prom…with my girlfriend…" Quinn looked up from her plate then, and gave Rachel a shy little smile, which Rachel returned with interest. "And that's going to be hard enough without being in the spotlight. All it takes is one asshole like Karovsky to make a stink, and suddenly our prom becomes a civil rights story on the nightly news. I just don't want to be known as the lezzie prom queen who ruined it for everyone."

"That's perfectly reasonable, sweetheart," Michael said reassuringly, patting her hand. "But the nominations come from the entire student body, right? I think it's pretty clear that your classmates' opinion of you isn't contingent on bullies like that Karovsky boy. And besides, wasn't your friend Santana nominated as well? She's got a girlfriend, too. It seems like your classmates might be more evolved than you're giving them credit for."

"Maybe," Quinn sighed, stabbing moodily at a tomato.

"And you know that if anyone does give you a hard time, we've got the glee club and half the football team ready to kick ass in your honor," Rachel teased gently, reaching out with her foot under the table and running her toes up and down Quinn's leg in silent reassurance.

"Yeah, that doesn't hurt," Quinn smiled shyly, biting her lip and pushing her leg playfully back against Rachel's toes under the table. "Since we're on the subject, Rach—I was thinking it might be fun to organize a group thing for all the glee girls to go shopping for our prom dresses together. Take some of the pressure off and let off some steam before Nationals. You think they'd be into that?"

"I think it's a lovely idea," Rachel nodded happily, relieved that Quinn's outlook on prom wasn't entirely bleak. "Daddy, I can borrow your credit card, right?"

"Yes," Michael nodded carefully, "but I do reserve the right to veto anything too revealing or too expensive, pumpkin. I know in your head, _prom_ and _red carpet_ are more or less synonymous; but I'm not ready to make that leap quite yet." Rachel rolled her eyes and blew her bangs off her face in exasperation. Quinn giggled and glanced over at Jacob, who just gave her a little wink.

….

"Quinn?"

"Yeah, babe?" The blonde girl murmured, crawling into bed beside her girlfriend and snapping off the bedside light. Rachel rolled onto her side, facing her girlfriend with a serious, thoughtful expression glinting off her dark eyes in the moonlight.

"What you said earlier today…about raising our kids Jewish?" Quinn blushed, but of course Rachel couldn't see this in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Was that…I mean, it wasn't the first time you've thought about us having kids together, was it?"

"Of course not," Quinn shook her head in the darkness. "I've thought about it a lot…haven't you?"

"Of course I have. It's just…we've never really talked about the future before." Rachel reached out for Quinn's hand in the darkness, playing absently with her fingers to take the edge off her suddenly racing heartbeat. Quinn seemed to share Rachel's nervousness on the topic, and snuggled closer to her under the covers.

"That's true," the blonde girl agreed quietly, her voice soft and vulnerable and full of love. "Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah."

"Me too." After a long, protected silence, Quinn cleared her throat.

"Rach, if you wanna talk about the future, you have to actually _talk._"

"I know that," Rachel huffed, and Quinn felt certain she could actually _hear _her girlfriend's pout in the darkness. "I'm just a little nervous, okay?"

"You don't have to be nervous, little star," Quinn cooed, taking Rachel's hand and pressing it over her own breastbone to calm the other girl with her heartbeat. "I want to be with you forever. You can't scare me off."

"I want to be with you forever too, Quinn—but what if we don't want the same things? What if the future you imagine and the future I imagine don't match up?"

"Well I highly doubt that, since the only thing I really want is to be wherever you are."

"That's _very_ sweet, baby, but I doubt it's truthful. You deserve to have your own goals and your own life, Quinn. What if they don't mesh with mine?"

"Honestly, Rach, I have no idea what else I want out of life yet. I'm not like you; I haven't had my future mapped out since age five. I'm gonna have to figure it out as I go. But I'll tell you what I _do_ know—I know I want to be where you are. I know I want to be sitting next to you when you win your first Tony, I know I want to have a home and a family with you, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. _That's _the picture I have in my mind, every day, of the life we're gonna have after we get out of this dinky town. I know it's a little rough around the edges, but that's why we make such a good team; I know I can just leave the details to you. Right?"

"Oh, Quinn…I love you…" Rachel leaned up on her elbow, and kissed her girlfriend thoroughly.

"I love you too, my starlight," Quinn murmured happily, running her fingers through Rachel's silky hair as the smaller girl settled down on top of her, contentedly listening to her heartbeat. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Sorry, I must've been distracted by your exceptional wooing skills. What was the question?"

"Our life. Details. You know them. Wanna share?"

"Oh." Rachel giggled a little, tracing her fingers absently around Quinn's bellybutton. "Well, if you insist…bear in mind that you are free to offer a dissenting opinion at any time."

"That's comforting," Quinn teased, smiling in the darkness.

"Yes, well, it should be. We'll have plenty of fights over colleges next year of course, as I'll be dead set on Julliard, and you'll be admitted to a number of excellent schools all across the country, including a fair number of Ivy League institutions. You'll say it's not fair for me to limit your options to only schools in New York City, and I'll say you're free to go wherever you want if that's more important to you than our relationship. Sparks will fly, of course. But in the end, you'll get a full scholarship to Columbia, and we'll both say we're sorry for being pig-headed, and off we'll go to New York."

"I can save you from a years' worth of worry already, silly girl—I've been assuming I'd go to college in New York pretty much since we got together."

"Oh. Well. That's excellent news, then." Quinn snickered sleepily, still threading her fingers absently through Rachel's hair.

"Go on. What happens after we get to college?"

"Well, the first year we'll both live in the dorms because it's too overwhelming to try to find an apartment in New York City from out of state. Julliard and Columbia are both on the Upper West Side, so we'll foolishly assume it'll be easy to spend time together. But college being college, we'll both be completely overwhelmed with work, and halfway through our first semester I'll have a huge meltdown because I think you're cheating on me with your lab partner."

"My _lab partner?_ I'm going to be a science geek in college?"

"You're already a science geek, darling. You just keep it on the down low to preserve your high school street cred. I've seen your iPod playlist, remember?"

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that one," Quinn murmured uncertainly. "I reserve the right to a dissenting opinion at a later date."

"Fair enough," Rachel shrugged, yawning sleepily. "Where was I…? Oh, yes, the dorms. They suck. We'll get an off-campus apartment together our sophomore year, and that's when we'll really start exploring the city more…we won't be able to afford a place on the Upper West Side of course, so we'll start looking at other neighborhoods around the city…and we'll end up getting a place in the same building with Britt and Santana and Kurt and Blaine."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yes, I never joke about New York City real estate, Quinn. It will be very challenging to find a neighborhood and a building we can all agree on, but in the end, the rest of you will leave it all up to me and Blaine, because we're the only ones who can talk to a broker for more than ten minutes without getting a migraine. We'll have an enormous housewarming party for all our friends, and from then on, the six of us will have dinner together once a week, followed by karaoke at a colorful neighborhood pub."

"Naturally," Quinn yawned, rubbing her eyes as she fought sleep in favor of Rachel's storytelling of their life.

"Junior year we'll both go abroad…we'll miss each other terribly of course, but we'll both agree it's an important collegiate experience that will ultimately lead to our growth as individuals and as a couple. I'll go to Paris to study opera, and you'll go to Madras, where you'll study public health and declare your major in Pre-Med."

"You just wanna marry a doctor, don't you?" Quinn murmured, snickering softly. Rachel ignored her, and continued.

"When we get back to New York for our senior year of college, we'll start settling down and domesticizing."

"Is that a real word?"

"Hush. And yes it is. We'll adopt a couple of stray kittens we find in the alley behind our building…"

"Ooh, sorry, dissenting opinion."

"You don't like _kittens?_" Rachel asked petulantly.

"I like them fine; they just don't like me. I'm allergic."

"Oh," Rachel grumbled, sounding disappointed. "Well, that's all right…we'll get a puppy instead. But not one of those high-strung diva puppies that you have to carry around in your handbag. A real dog. You're not allergic to dogs, are you?"

"Nope," Quinn yawned softly. "All good."

"Good," Rachel nodded sleepily against Quinn's shoulder. "So, we'll get a puppy…and we'll take him for long walks in Central Park every Sunday, and start exploring all the dog parks. We'll meet more of our neighbors that way…" Rachel trailed off into a long, drawn-out yawn. "And then we'll graduate…and have our own New York Thanksgiving 'cause we're too poor to come visit our parents…and Britt will make us all watch the Macy's Thanksgiving day parade…"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn murmured, shifting sleepily and wrapping her arms more securely around her girlfriend's warm body. Rachel sighed and nuzzled her face into Quinn's hair. "What happens next, Rach?"

"Mm…happily ever after," Rachel murmured, before closing her eyes and dropping off to sleep.


	45. Fuckin' Perfect

Hey gleeks! Thanks for your helpful tips and advice on the mysterious and elaborate rituals of prom court. This chap was really fun to write! I hope you'll enjoy, and as always, reviews are very much appreciated!

NB: the song "Fuckin' Perfect" is property of Pink. If you aren't familiar with it, go have a listen on YouTube! It'll definitely make this chapter more vivid for you ;)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 45**

**By JewWitch**

…

"Oh, Quinnie, you look so beautiful," Judy beamed, her eyes misting over as Quinn descended the staircase in her flowing aqua-blue dress, smiling shyly at her mother's radiant expression of approval. "I wish I could be there to see the look on Rachel's face when she sees you in that…"

"Mom. I love you and all, but you are _not_ coming with me to pick up my prom date," Quinn said sternly, putting one hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow sardonically.

"Yes, yes, I know, you're all grown up now. You don't need your square old mother cramping your style. But you just make sure that Rachel's dads take an exhaustive number of pictures, all right?"

"Don't worry," Quinn smirked, hugging her mom lightly so as not to crease her dress. "I'm sure _exhaustive_ will only be phase one of the documentation that Michael and Jacob will have in mind. You'll probably get a whole album's worth before we even get out the door."

"What more could a mother ask for?" Judy asked rhetorically, kissing Quinn on the cheek and squeezing her shoulders briefly. "Go have fun, sweetheart." Quinn nodded shyly, and slipped out the door into the warm spring evening. She was driving to Rachel's in her car, and an hour later (God willing, that would be enough time for Rachel's dads to get a satisfactory number of pictures) Brittany and Santana and Kurt and Blaine would come meet them with the limo the six of them were sharing, which they had already affectionately dubbed the glitter express. As much as Quinn worried over her own vulnerability to teasing or harassment tonight, she was far more worried for Kurt, who after all had experienced far more bullying on a daily basis than any of the girls had; and she was glad they'd all be together to protect each other if necessary.

When she rang the doorbell at Rachel's house, it opened so fast she knew Jacob must have been sitting there waiting for her arrival, his expression even more misty that he mom's had been as he looked her up and down. "Eat your heart out, Kate Middelton," he said rakishly as he held out a hand to escort her over the threshold. Quinn giggled and accepted his hand, laughing outright when he twirled her around in the entryway for Michael's approval. "Isn't she an absolute vision?" Jacob demanded proudly.

"All I can say is, thank God for digital photography. It's such a load off my mind that we won't have to worry about running out of film," Michael said with a slightly undignified look of childish delight on his chiseled face.

"Thanks, Dads," Quinn smiled affectionately at the pair of them. "Is Rachel almost ready?"

"I'm ready," Rachel's voice came floating down from the top of the staircase, and all three of them turned to look up at once. At first, all Quinn could see were a pair of feet and the gauzy pink bottom of Rachel's dress; and even though she'd seen it once before, since they _had_ done their dress shopping together, she was totally unprepared for the feeling of complete and utter brain-melt that came over her as her girlfriend descended the staircase, beaming at her like an angel.

"Rachel…" Quinn sighed softly as all the breath left her body in a rush. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life."

"That was supposed to be _my _line," Rachel teased gently, as the two of them met at the bottom of the staircase, one step apart so Rachel was a few inches higher than Quinn for once. The little starlet reached out and cupped a hand to the taller girl's face, stroking her thumb across Quinn's delicate cheekbone. "You're fucking perfect," Rachel whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss of pure worship to her girlfriend's soft lips. They both ignored the click and flash of the cameras as both Jacob and Michael began snapping pictures of them from different angles.

"All right, cherubs, can you pry your lips apart long enough to get a few respectable photos? We need some that we can actually show other people."

"You're harshing my buzz, Dad," Rachel complained, but Quinn just giggled and pulled her down the final step, so they could pose together by the banister. "Oh, wait, I almost forgot"—Rachel scampered off to the kitchen, and returned a moment later with two medium-sized boxes holding their corsages. "Can I?" she asked softly, opening the first box and gently removing the white gardenia, dangling from a long green ribbon.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded, feeling her cheeks flush pleasurably as her girlfriend gently tied the corsage to her wrist. "It's perfect, Rach…and it matches my eyes."

"Yes, I kind of planned it that way," Rachel nodded happily.

"Can I put yours on?" Quinn asked, already removing the delicate pink bloom from the second box; Rachel just nodded, smiling, and held out her wrist. "You're so perfect," Quinn sighed, stroking Rachel's cheek and leaning in for another long, soft kiss.

"If you want all your prom photos to be x-rated, then by all means, let's continue the photo shoot just like this," Jacob said sarcastically.

"I'm putting ex-lax in your coffee tomorrow," Rachel threatened, narrowing her eyes furiously at her dad as Quinn giggled and pulled her back to the edge of the banister for some respectable photos. After a minute, the little diva seemed to remember how much she actually enjoyed having her picture taken, and began instructing Quinn in a variety of poses that showed off all their best angles and attributes. The blonde girl submitted willingly, unconsciously leaning her forehead against Rachel's in every pose, her body craving continuous contact with the girl who was the magnetic center of her universe.

"That's beautiful, girls, just beautiful," Jacob sighed, taking a step back and cocking his head at the view screen. "How about just one more, for the grandkids?"

"Daaaad," Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that erupted as Quinn giggled and ducked her head against her girlfriend's neck.

"Oh, please, like you don't already have their names picked out," Jacob teased, snapping one final shot of Quinn and Rachel laughing with their arms around each other; Rachel gazing straight into the camera with a slightly devilish glint in her eye, while Quinn's eyes were locked on Rachel, an angelic smile of pure love and peace radiating from her hazel gaze.

"All right, I think that's enough prom pictures for my future VH1 behind the music special," Rachel quipped as the doorbell rang again, and Kurt stood waiting to escort them to the limo.

"Will you email all your pictures to my mom?" Quinn asked Jacob, as Rachel took her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"Oh, honey, please. She's coming over here for coffee and dessert in an hour for a formal viewing. Don't worry, we won't show her the naughty ones."

…

In the limo, Santana predictably produced a small flask, and they all shared a quick nip of whatever was inside (Quinn and Rachel didn't ask) on the way. It wasn't enough to make them sloppy drunk, of course; it just took the edge off their giddiness and settled into a warm feeling in the pit of their stomachs. By the time they arrived at the gym, they were all on cloud nine, and made a beeline straight for the dance floor as Sam, Artie and Puck serenaded them with the first of several glee club performance rotations.

"Who do you think picked _this_ song?" Quinn asked, giggling, as the three football players belted out Rebecca Black's tween hit _Friday_.

"Probably Sam. That boy is _such_ a mothball," Kurt sighed, shaking his head as Blaine grabbed his hand and twirled him.

"He doesn't look like a mothball to me," Brittany frowned, with her usual expression of mild confusion.

"He means, Sam's a closet case, B," Santana explained gently, running her hands up and down her girlfriend's arms as they danced to the goofy song. "But I dunno. He might just be a little emo-Beiber."

The dancing went on as the Glee club rotated through their performances ; as soon as Sam, Artie and Puck left the stage, they planned and executed a complicated three-man punch-spiking strategy, which involved Artie actually allowing himself to be caught (with what would turn out to be lemonade) and hauled off, long enough for Puck to sneak in and spike the punchbowl with the _real_ booze. The junior class was in full spiked-punch-prom-night glory when Quinn and Rachel took the stage, flush-faced and beaming, to an uproar of cheering as the band began to strike up a base line behind them. Rachel winked at Quinn, picked up her glittering rhinestone microphone, and began to sing.

_Made a wrong turn, once or twice.  
Dug my way out, blood and fire.  
Bad decisions, that's alright.  
Welcome to my silly life. _

Quinn took the second mic, and sang the next half of the verse straight out into the crowd.

_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood.  
Miss 'No way, it's all good', it didn't slow me down.  
Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated.  
Look, I'm still around. _

Then they both turned and sang the chorus to each other, with their classmates jumping and cheering and singing along deliriously around them.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
Like you're less than _

_fuckin' perfect.  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel _

_like you're nothing,  
You're fuckin' perfect _

_to me _

Quinn let go of her usual demure performance style, and sang out loud and loose when her verses came, twirling and winking to the audience, and grinning devilishly at Rachel when the other girl sang. Finally they came around to the last chorus, by which point the energy level of the crowd had brought them both to a fever pitch of intense, kinetic harmony.

_Yeah, oh, oh baby, pretty baby  
Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
Like you're less than _

_fuckin' perfect.  
Pretty,pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
Like you're nothing, _

_you're fuckin' perfect _

_to me, yeahhh.  
You're perfect, you're perfect  
Ohh pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
Like you're less than _

_fuckin' perfect.  
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel, _

_like you're nothing  
You're fuckin' perfect _

_to me_

Everyone cheered wildly as Quinn and Rachel both turned and curtsied to their audience; and all of Quinn's anxiety about being teased or harassed was blasted away. She didn't care about blending in anymore. She didn't care about making waves. All she wanted to do was show the world (or at least, the prom) that this amazing, incredible girl who sang with her and made them all cheer like wild animals was _hers_. So she grabbed Rachel by the small of her back, drew her close, and kissed her tenderly.

Judging by the frenzied burst of applause, their audience approved. "I think I need some air," Rachel panted, grinning stupidly when Quinn released her.

"C'mon little star, let's go take a break," Quinn said happily, wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulder and leading her outside. They walked out into the pleasantly cool night air, Rachel leaning contentedly into Quinn's shoulder, and sat on a bench in front of the school. The dark-haired starlet slipped off her shoes, and Quinn pulled her feet up into her lap and began giving her a light foot massage.

"Ohhh my God, that feels better than sex," Rachel groaned, throwing her head back with a deep sigh.

"Seriously?" Quinn raised an eyebrow dubiously.

"No, I was just being hyperbolic. But if you want to help me make a fair comparison, I believe the limo is open..."

"Haha, not a chance babe. I'm as open to adventure as the next girl, but being caught having sex in the parking lot on prom night is _not_ on my to-do list. Besides, we'd for _sure_ mess up our hair."

"A limo's not public," Rachel pouted, looking slightly put-out at Quinn's ever-so-gentle rejection of her prom night booty call. "It's got tinted windows and locks. ...But you're probably right about the hair thing. This took me over an hour." She lightly patted the side of her head, making sure her sleek hairdo was still in order.

"And worth every minute," Quinn said sweetly, leaning in and kissing her girlfriend's shiny, gloss-coated lips.

"Ooh, girl, looks like I found the _real_ party out here!" The taunting voice of Azimio, the snarling bully who had thrown so many slushies at the gleeks, came out of the shadows as he emerged from the darkness, leering at the two girls on the bench. "Go on, just keep doin' what you doin', puh-_leeze_." His lip curled suggestively, and Quinn shrank back against the bench, while Rachel yanked her feet back from Quinn's lap and sat up straight, her back rigid and tense.

"Bite me, asshole. We're not free porn."

"Aww, you gonna charge me now? A'aight, I got me a prom night expense account. How much you girls want for the show?" He grinned piggishly, pulling out a $20 bill from his pocket and waving it in front of them.

"Just leave us alone," Rachel snarled, laying a pacifying hand on Quinn's leg as the blonde girl began to tremble from nerves and embarrassment.

"Naw, I think I got a better idea than that, sugar. I think I'ma show you a little somethin'-somethin' about bein' with a _real_ man. Knock the gay right outta your pretty little head. How about it, Fabray? You wanna watch?" He leered, and wiggled his eyebrows. Quinn jumped up from the bench and snarled, standing in front of Rachel protectively.

"Screw you," she growled, grabbing Rachel's hand and pulling her back towards the safety of the school. "C'mon Rach, let's go." The dark-haired girl grabbed her shoes and willingly followed her girlfriend's lead, but they had only taken a couple of steps when Quinn felt a bolt of pain shoot up her arm, as a large, strong hand grabbed her above the elbow, squeezing hard and yanking her off her feet. She yelped in surprise and pain as she was knocked to the ground, landing hard on her back so all the wind was knocked out of her.

"_Quinn!_" Rachel shrieked, running to her girlfriend's side. But before she reached her, Azimio grabbed her around the middle, his large, beefy hands poking her ribs and yanking at the gauzy material of her dress. "Let go of me, you dumb fuck! _Help! Somebody help!_" Rachel yelled at the top of her voice, which, for Rachel, was really saying something. Several guys came running at the sound of her distress call, including Puck, Sam, and Mike Chang.

"Dude! What the fuck!" Puck yelled, yanking Azimio back so he was forced to let go of the little starlet. Rachel gasped in relief, and immediately ran to Quinn's side, kneeling down beside her in the grass.

"You okay, baby?" Rachel murmured, helping Quinn sit up and brushing a few cherry blossoms from her hair and dress.

"Uh-huh," Quinn panted, wincing and holding her stomach. "Just...need a minute..." Rachel kissed her cheek and rubbed her back while she slowly got her breath back, both of them only dimly aware of the verbal reaming Azimio was now getting from the glee guys.

"What's the matter with you, bro? Where'd you learn to treat girls like that? A crackhouse?" Puck snarled, yanking Azimio by the scruff of his neck and shoving him back again.

"I don't see no girls here. Just _dykes_," Azimio retorted, straightening his lapels and smoothing his suit jacket down.

"_What_ did you just say, cabrón ?" Santana growled, emerging from the building with Brittany at her side. Azimio looked around at all of them, and shrugged, clearly outnumbered.

"I done disturbed the freak hive, huh? A'aight, I had enough fun for now anyhow."

"Not _for now_," Sam corrected him, stepping up so he was toe-to-toe with the larger boy, staring up at him and puffing out his chest fearlessly. "You're _done_. We could get you thrown out of school for this bullshit, you got me bro? You leave these girls alone. Or else."

"Whatever, man." Azimio shrugged, turning back to the girls and giving them a piggish wink; then he walked back towards the prom.

"Motherfucking _fuck_," Santana exclaimed when he'd gone, stooping down to help Quinn and Rachel to their feet. "Are you guys okay?"

"Fucking asshole," Quinn sniffled. Then she burst into tears. Rachel, Brittany and Santana all rushed to console her, while the boys stood back awkwardly, looking anxious and uncomfortable.

"Do you, uh, want us to go get a teacher or something?" Sam asked, ruffling his hair and shifting from foot to foot.

"Naw, we got this," Santana shook her head with a small smile for the boys. "Thanks, trouty mouth. You done good." Sam nodded and shrugged to the other two, and they turned and walked back towards the dance. Rachel, Santana and Brittany gently steered Quinn inside, as well, but took a turn towards the girls' bathroom instead of the booming music coming from the gym.

"I'm sorry, Rach, I'm s-so sorry," Quinn stuttered, tears spilling freely down her face as she gulped for air.

"Shh, you didn't do anything wrong, angel," Rachel cooed, wrapping both arms tight around her girlfriend's shaking body and gathering her close. "Shh baby, we're okay...it's over...I'm right here."

"Here, take a sip of this," Santana said gently, returning from the gym with a cup of the spiked punch in her hand.

"I don't wanna get drunk right now, Santana," Quinn sniffled, not taking the cup. Santana rolled her eyes.

"I said take a sip, not pound shots, Goldilocks. It's good for the nerves, okay? Let's just get you cooled off, now." Santana pushed the cup into Quinn's hand, and the blonde girl relented and took a little sip, sighing heavily.

"Thanks, Santi," she murmured, sniffling softly. Rachel went to the sink and came back with a moist paper towel, and began tenderly wiping the tear tracks from Quinn's flushed cheeks.

"There now...do you feel a little better, my love?"

"He could have..." Quinn gulped and closed her eyes. "He was going to hurt you, Rach. If the boys hadn't shown up when you yelled..."

"But they _did,_ baby. And I'm fine. I promise, not a scratch."

"Hey, what about us? We were ready to kick some ass, too," Santana pointed out, leaning against the sink with a playful half-smirk, as her arm wound around Brittany's waist. Quinn looked up at them, and threw her arms around Santana's shoulders, hugging her best friend with all her strength.

"Thank you," she whispered into the Latina's hair.

"It's cool, mija. We got each other's backs, right?"

"Always," Quinn nodded, pulling back with a watery smile. Just then, the bathroom door flew open, and Kurt stood there with his hands on his kilted hips.

"What on earth happened in _here?_ I thought you'd all gone off to have a lady sex party in the limo. You know there's only a few more minutes till the coronation, right? Quinn, Santana, you'll have to be on stage soon."

"No way," Quinn shook her head vehemently, taking the damp paper towel from Rachel's hand and dabbing at her eyes. "I'm not giving Azimio or any of those other jerks another chance to fuck with us. I'm done."

"Quinn, no," Brittany said in distress, grabbing her hand and squeezing. "You can't let him win. Prom only happens once- well, actually, since this is the Junior Prom, we've got next year, too, so really it's twice- but you have to go back in there and celebrate. Otherwise, the bad guy wins."

"I just can't, Britt," Quinn sniffed, shaking her head sadly. "I'm sorry." Santana and Kurt both started talking at once, but Rachel silenced them with a gentle reprimand.

"Guys, can we just have a minute alone?" she asked, smiling softly at all their fierce expressions.

"Of course," Kurt nodded, giving Quinn's shoulder a squeeze before slipping back out into the hall. When it was just Quinn and Rachel left in the bathroom, the little starlet reached out and took her girlfriend's face in both hands, pressing their foreheads together as they both closed their eyes and sighed.

"Rach...I'm sorry."

"Shh, you don't have to be sorry," Rachel murmured, stroking Quinn's cheeks with her thumbs. "If you really want to go, we'll go. But, baby...I don't want you to look back on this night for the rest of your life and remember some stupid hunk of meat chasing you out of your own prom. I think it'll eat you up inside. I know you're strong enough to go back in there...and I know our friends are waiting to cheer for you up on that stage." Quinn let out a long, deep breath; then she tilted Rachel's chin up and kissed her deeply.

"You're my hero, Rachel," she whispered, smiling weakly as she pulled away, squeezing both the smaller girl's hands in her own.

"And you're mine," Rachel beamed, picking up the damp paper towel from the edge of the sink and gently wiping Quinn's eyes some more. "You didn't even stop to think before putting yourself between me and danger...don't think that's something I'm ever gonna forget."

"Fat lot of good it did," Quinn snorted sardonically. "I might as well have been a fluffy little bunny for all the protection I could give you. I think we need to take some basic self-defense classes before we move to New York."

"I think that's a wonderful idea, baby," Rachel smiled encouragingly. "Now, are you ready to get back in there and show them all what Quinn Fabray is made of?"

"As long as you'll be in there with me," Quinn nodded, smiling weakly.

"I'll never be anywhere else," Rachel nodded happily. Hand in hand, they left the bathroom and returned to the gym, sharing another cup of the fortified punch to calm their nerves as the adrenalin drained from their bodies. They barely had time to finish it before Figgins took the stage and called for the Prom court to come up; Quinn gave Rachel a brave smile and a kiss on the cheek before following Santana and the others up onto the platform.

"Hello, children," he said in his usual awkward but sweet way, beaming down at them all. "It is wonderful to see all of your smiling faces on this special evening. Now, without further ado, I would like to give you the results of this year's votes for prom king and queen. Your 2011 prom king is..." He opened an envelope, and stared at it in obvious confusion. "Children, we have a strange situation tonight. By overwhelming majority, you have no prom king this year."

Quinn felt her heart rate begin to pick up with fresh anxiety, as her eyes automatically searched out her girlfriend's in the crowd. She had a bad feeling about this...but Rachel's warm gaze and beaming smile kept her grounded. "Instead," Figgins continued, "we have a tie for prom queen; two queens instead of a king. Your 2011 prom queens are Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry." For a split second, Quinn was sure it was a horrible joke; that her classmates were poised to throw pigs blood or something equally horrible on the two of them as soon as they took the stage. But before her fear had a chance to fully blossom in her stomach, the crowd was cheering and clapping, and the confused blonde girl could see no malice or cruelty in their smiles as she looked all around the room, her face blank with shock. It was Santana who brought her back to reality with a sharp poke in her side, and a whispered "go get your girl!" in her ear.

Blushing with laughter, Quinn shook her head in amazement, and reached her hand out to beckon Rachel from the crowd. When her eyes found her girlfriend's, they reflected the same dazed shock she was feeling; but Rachel recovered her wits quickly and made her way easily toward the stage, as the crowd parted helpfully around her. Finn and Mike Chang, both on stage as nominees, grabbed her hands and pulled her up onto the stage when she reached the edge, and they both kissed her on the cheek before passing her off to Quinn, who just squeezed her hand in shocked happiness.

"Did you know...?" she asked the dark-haired girl dazedly.

"No idea," Rachel shook her head, smiling goofily as the oversized king's crown was placed on her head, at an angle to keep it from falling off. Quinn giggled, and stood still as the queen's crown was placed on her own head, and the band struck up the opening chords of Dancin' Queen.

"May I have this dance?" Quinn asked coyly, some of the shock wearing off as she offered her hand formally to her girlfriend, palm up, for their coronation dance.

"I do believe that's the best offer I've gotten all night," Rachel teased back, blushing almost as brightly as Quinn as they walked onto the dance floor, giggling, and began to dance, surrounded by their cheering friends.

"Thanks for not letting me leave," Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear, as they relaxed into each other's arms and the rhythm of the dance.

"Thanks for being so wonderful," Rachel murmured back, twirling her finger around a loose lock of blonde hair at the back of Quinn's neck.

"I'm never going to forget this night, little starlight," Quinn sighed, dipping her head down and capturing Rachel's lips in a soft kiss. She was only dimly aware of the cheering that erupted around her as they danced the night away.


	46. Prom Night Interlude

Hey everybody!

thanks for the awesome response to the last chapter- I'm glad you all liked the Faberry prom night so much! This chap is just a short interlude to sew up the whole prom experience...I thought about waiting and just including it in the next chapter, but there's a lot more big plot stuff coming soon, and this little bit felt more like a stand-alone (plus, I mean, why make you wait?). So, enjoy.

Also, just an FYI, I'm going to be closing out this story after Nationals, as it's gotten so huge, and then in the fall, I'll start a new "season." But don't worry, I won't leave you hanging all summer- in response to so many of you asking to see some of Quinn & Rachel's future, this summer I will do just that! So after Memorial Day, look for my new story called _Summer Interlude: Snapshots_. It'll be little bits and pieces of the life of Faberry after high school, lots of fluffy moments! I'm looking forward to all your responses! :)

-JW

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 46**

**By JewWitch**

...

"I still don't understand how this happened," Quinn shook head, touching her crown with an absentminded smile as she sipped her Diet Coke in the pre-dawn light. It was somewhere between 4 and 5am, and after a long night of dancing at both prom and the Hudson-Hummel afterparty, the gleeks had all ended up at Waffle House for a hearty, hangover-curing breakfast. "I mean, I knew we were popular since this year started and I got back on the Cheerios, but...prom queens? Both of us?"

"_I'm_ showing them!" Kurt squealed spastically, jumping up and down in his seat as he yanked an iPad from his messenger bag.

"He's has a little too much Red Bull tonight," Blaine said apologetically, patting his hyperactive boyfriend gently on the back.

"Oh, hush. I've been dying to see the looks on their faces for two whole weeks. Brittany, Santana, you need to see this too." Kurt queued up a video on the iPad, and held it up so the entire table could see. The screen was filled with what looked like half the starting line of the McKinley football team, standing on the field in their uniforms; but Quinn realized after a moment that it was actually the nominees for Junior prom king, all except Karovsky anyway.

"Hey, what's up McKinley Junior class!" Finn said in the video, waving at the camera in his sweet and oafish way. "I'm Finn Hudson, and I'm here with Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang, John Conroy and Eddie Hernandez." The other guys all waved and nodded at the camera, grinning like they were running for public office. "We've all been nominated for prom king this year. But we want to ask you guys something a little weird- we're asking you _not_ to vote for us." The other guys all nodded stoically, looking tough and determined with their arms folded across their chests.

"See, we all know that when you vote from prom king, you think of who you want for prom _queen_ first, and then just vote for whoever she's dating as king," Finn continued.

"Right," Puck agreed, grinning piggishly as he stepped in. "But this year, our top two contenders for prom queen don't have boyfriends- they've got smokin' hot _girlfriends_. And I don't know about _you_ guys, but I wanna see them dancing together on prom night."

"Exactly," Finn nodded, jumping back in before Puck could get into stride with his leering. "Prom king and queen isn't just about the most popular guy and the most popular girl; it's supposed to be a vote for the best _couple_. Everybody knows that. And as honored as we all are to be nominated to prom court by you guys, we're here to ask you not to vote for us when there are two _way_ better couples who really deserve to dance together with those crowns."

"We're not just trying to be nice guys, either," Puck interjected again, leering suggestively at the camera. "I'm talking to the dudes now- think about the visuals you'll get watching two of the hottest girls in school doing that coronation dance together, man. That's like, the start of a legendary porno"-

"Watch it, Puckerman," came coach Beiste's voice from off-camera.

"Just keepin' it real, coach," Puck shrugged unapologetically, and Finn hastily cut in again.

"And to the girls in our class- imagine how you'd feel if _you_ were crowned prom queen, and had to dance with some random dude instead of the person you really love," the taller boy finished, looking as serious and earnest as he ever had. "So, if you're planning to vote Quinn Fabray for prom queen, then write in Rachel Berry instead of one of us."

"And if you're voting for Santana Lopez, write in Brittany Pierce," Puck finished. Each of them held up a blown-up, poster-sized prom ballot, with a large X through the king column, and the two alternate write-in votes displayed prominently next to Quinn and Santana's names. "You know you wanna do it. But don't tell them, okay? 'Cause we really want this to be a surprise. Let's have the hottest damn prom in the history of McKinley High!" All the guys cheered, waving at the camera, as the screen went black. The McKinley High crest and mascot emblazoned across the black space for a few more seconds before the video ended.

"Oh my _God_," Quinn whispered, looking up from the video with her eyes suddenly full of tears. "You guys..."

"Hey, I got what _I_ wanted," Puck shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows at them from the next booth where he sat with Lauren, Mike and Tina, and Finn, Sam and Mercedes. "No thanks necessary, your highnesses."

"I've been _dying_ to upload this little gem to the It Gets Better website all week, but of course we had to wait till after the vote so it wouldn't spoil the surprise," Kurt exclaimed happily, still bouncing with excess caffeinated energy. "But now it's even better, actually, because we can cut it together with the footage the A/V club took of your coronation dance. Think how inspiring it will be to other schools around the country! I'm so proud."

"My dads are going to go mental," Rachel shook her head, smiling dazedly as their waitress arrived and began passing out their food. When she was finished, instead of walking away, she stood staring at them for a silent moment, her eyes fixing on Quinn and Rachel and their crowns.

"I'm sorry, are you kids from McKinley? I recognize you boys from that YouTube video. Are these your prom queens?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi," Quinn nodded, waving sheepishly.

"Oh, well, I won't bother y'all, but I just wanted to tell you what an inspiration that video was to my little boy. He's ten, and, well, he has it pretty rough at school. Kids at that age can be so cruel when they see somebody bein' different...you know what I mean."

"We _do_ know," Kurt nodded, looking a little misty as his eyes met the tired gaze of the loving young mother serving their eggs and waffles.

"Only ten years old, and he already knows what it means to get called _faggot_. It just breaks my heart that I can't protect him. But I saw y'all's video last week, and I showed it to him- you'd a thought Christmas came early, the look on his face. He'll just be so happy when I tell him that the high school kids went ahead and made you two beautiful girls prom queens. Would you mind if I took your picture?"

"Of course not," Rachel nodded happily, as Quinn wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. The young waitress snapped a few quick pictures with her phone, which Rachel insisted on supplementing with a hand-written note on the back of a napkin to the little boy, whose name was Tyler, telling him to stay strong and brave, because it would get better for him, too.

...

It was just after 6am when Quinn and Rachel finally made it home, the last of their prom night adrenalin draining away as they stumbled out of their dresses and fell into bed in an exhausted stupor. But as tired as her body felt, Quinn's mind was racing with everything that had happened, and somehow, she just couldn't seem to turn it off.

"Rach?"

"Mmhmm," Rachel murmured against Quinn's neck.

"I can't sleep."

"Mm..." the dark-haired girl sighed, yawning and nuzzling into her girlfriend's soft hair. "Sheep. Count them..."

"No," Quinn whined, shifting restlessly and tracing her nails up and down the shorter girl's spine. "Tell me another story about our future. Please baby?"

_"Quinnnn,"_ Rachel whined in protest. "M'sleeping..."

"You're not sleeping. You're telling me a story. Come on, just a short one...and you can skip ahead to the good stuff. Like, how old are we when we have our first baby?"

"Twenty-six," Rachel murmured, still sounding more asleep than awake. "After I win my first Tony...a baby girl..." she yawned softly, and trailed off sleepily.

"And her name is..." Quinn prompted.

"Zoe," Rachel sighed, yawning again. "Light brown hair. Hazel eyes. Like Beth..."

"Does that mean I'm carrying her?" Quinn asked, threading her fingers through Rachel's loose hair to keep her from drifting off.

"Mmhmm," Rachel agreed woozily. "I won't be ready...to take time off from the stage...till after my second Tony..."

"So you'll get pregnant the next time?"

"Mm," the sleepy girl mumbled. "A boy. Cooper. Three years later...plays the piano..."

"That sounds nice," Quinn murmured, yawning as her own exhaustion finally began to set in properly. "What about Zoe? Does she like music?"

"Nu-uh," Rachel sighed, her breath warm against Quinn's throat. "We'll try...but she's just...not into it. Painter...big messes...we build her a studio room..."

"Ooh," Quinn yawned again, closing her eyes. "We'll have to send them both to lots of classes..."

"Uh-uh," Rachel disagreed, with a minute shake of her head. "New York. Private school...don't need extra lessons."

"Right," the blonde girl sighed sleepily. "That'll be...perfect..."

"Mmhmm," the little diva mumbled. "Perfect..." Quinn's hand finally stilled in Rachel's hair, as they both drifted off to sleep, dreaming of their future.


	47. Funeral

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 47**

**By JewWitch**

…..

Rachel and Quinn spent the rest of the weekend in a post-prom daze that lasted through most of the school day on Monday, too. Everyone wanted to congratulate them or get a fist bump, like they had a special coating of prom queen fairy dust that could be passed around to the rest of the school. Rachel was utterly in her element with the whole school fawning over her, repeatedly reminding Quinn—who was a little more bashful about all the attention—that this was excellent practice for how they'd be received when they returned from New York as national show choir champions next week.

Their bliss-bubble remained unbroken until they walked into the choir room for glee rehearsal, and found Mr. Schue looking deadly serious as he pointed to the word NATIONALS written in all caps on the whiteboard. He spoke at length about how proud he was of all of them, how now was the time to rally and stay focused, and how they should continue their winning tradition of singing original songs as they did at Regionals. Quinn got a slight pang in her stomach then, remembering the stress that writing original songs had put on her relationship with her girlfriend; but almost before the thought was fully formed in her mind, Rachel's hand was slipping into hers, and she squeezed back gratefully, turning to the dark-haired girl with a beaming smile.

Just then, a student messenger knocked on the choir room door and silently passed a note to Mr. Schue before shuffling out again. The Spanish teacher glanced at the note, and then said in an unconcerned voice, "Quinn? Ms. Pillsbury needs to see you in her office about something."

"Does it say what?" The blonde girl asked warily, an unpleasant tingling sensation making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The last time she'd been pulled into the guidance counselor's office, it _had_ been for good news…still, Quinn had learned that, overall, she was not the biggest fan of surprises, and she didn't want to walk in blind if she didn't have to.

"Uh, no. But I wouldn't worry too much. Maybe it's something about the National Merit Scholarship?" Rachel squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. Quinn sighed and shrugged.

"Um, okay…I guess I'll be right back, guys." With a quick kiss to calm her overexcited girlfriend, Quinn gathered her things and slipped out of the choir room, heading up the stairs to Ms. Pillsbury's office on the second floor. She was thinking absentmindedly about Nationals, and prom, and how happy she was about everything right now, when she walked into the guidance counselor's office and saw her mother and older sister sitting across from the red-haired teacher.

"Mom! Gracie! Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked cheerfully; but the smile slipped off her face almost the moment the words were out of her mouth. It was like time had gone suddenly into slow motion, because the next moment seemed to last forever as Quinn looked from her mom's face to her sister's, taking in their somber expressions; and she just knew that her dad was dead.

"Quinnie…" her mom said softly, reaching out to hug her.

"No," Quinn shook her head vehemently, backing up until she hit the door and closing her eyes childishly, as if she could refuse to experience this moment. "No Mom, don't. Please…"

"Honey, you need to look at me," her mother said gently, and she could feel her face being held gently in warm hands, the reassuringly sweet smell of her mom's perfume wafting in her nostrils.

"No, no, no…" Quinn chanted quietly, squeezing her eyes stubbornly shut as she clenched her fists at her sides. "Not now, I'm not ready Mom. I'm not ready." She felt sure that if she said it enough, she could make everything all right; like when her dad taught her how to swim at the lake house, promising he wouldn't let go until she was ready. But the water was so dark and deep, and she _wasn't_ ready, and he promised he wouldn't let go until she said so. "I'm not ready," she whimpered softly. There was a brief silence in the room; then the hands on Quinn's face were gone, and a smaller pair of arms went around her that she knew without opening her eyes were her sister's.

"Open your eyes, baby bug," Grace said gently, putting both hands in Quinn's hair. Slowly, the younger girl stopped clenching her eyes shut, and looked up into her sister's face. The older girl's blue eyes were teary and bloodshot. "Daddy's gone, Quinn. It happened this morning. He died peacefully in his sleep." Quinn nodded, feeling strangely detached from her body. She glanced across the desk at Ms. Pillsbury, who was looking at her with sadness and compassion in her eyes. She really was a pretty good guidance counselor.

"I can't feel anything," Quinn murmured, looking from the guidance counselor back to her mom. "Am I a terrible person? I should cry, right?"

"There's no _should_, Quinn," Ms. Pillsbury said patiently, as her mom reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Shock is a natural part of the grief process. It's nothing you should feel ashamed of. You've been excused from class for the next few days, but my door is always open for whatever you need, all right?" Quinn nodded dully. Then suddenly, she did feel something—a shot of hot, stabbing panic in her stomach.

"Mom, I'm still going to Nationals, right?"

"We'll talk about it later, Quinn," Judy said quietly, while Grace huffed impatiently and crossed her arms.

"But Mom"—

"I said we'll talk about it later," Judy said a little more sharply. The queasy, panicky feeling in Quinn's stomach curled itself up into an uncomfortable knot and settled in like a sleeping python. She took a slow, deep breath, one hand rubbing her stomach absently.

"'Kay," she murmured hopelessly.

"Mom?" Grace glanced pointedly at the door. Judy nodded briskly, like she was just waking up from a long sleep and needed to get her head straight.

"Honey, we need to go home now," she said more gently to an agitated Quinn, smoothing a lock of hair back from her daughter's face and tilting her chin up to look in her glazed eyes. "Do you have all your things?"

"I…" Quinn's throat felt stuck. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly a few times, and coughed sharply into her elbow. Ms. Pillsbury gave her a cup of water from the cooler in the corner. "Thanks," she sighed after gulping it down. "I have all my stuff, Mom. But…I need to go say goodbye to the glee club. They're waiting for me to come back."

"Okay, sweetie. Just be quick. We have a lot to sort through at home. Tell your friends goodbye, then come meet us in the parking lot." Quinn nodded, and had the presence of mind to thank Ms. Pillsbury on her way out. She watched her mom and sister disappear down the stairwell, dragging her feet slightly to draw out the time it would take her to leave her friends and face what was waiting at home. In the time it took her to walk back to the choir room, she'd gone from feeling nothing, to vague anxiety, to pure, undiluted fury with the universe for making something so awful happen _now_, just when everything was so perfect and wonderful. By the time she walked back into the choir room, where everyone was smiling and chatting about Nationals, she was a quivering ball of hurt and rage.

"Hey sunshine, everything okay with Ms. Pillsbury? Did you win the scholarship?" Rachel's careless smile slipped a notch as she looked up into the blonde girl's face. "Quinn? Are you…did something happen?" Quinn nodded. Then she closed her eyes, screamed at the top of her lungs, and burst into tears.

…..

When the Fabrays returned home, Quinn wasn't surprised to find her brother-in-law, Mark, sitting at the kitchen table with a mess of papers spread out in front of him, talking on his cell phone about funeral arrangements. He looked up when they came in, and gave all three women a small, sad smile and a nod of acknowledgment. When he got off the phone, he immediately got up and went to give Quinn a hug.

"Hey Q-bert," he said warmly, using the goofy nickname he'd given her when she was little as his strong arms wrapped around her. It was a reference to some old-school arcade game he'd played as a kid, long before Quinn's time of course, so she hadn't really understood it; but she'd always liked that her sister's boyfriend had a special nickname just for her. So when she eventually found out that he'd nicknamed her after a hairy orange coconut with a big nose, it didn't really bother her much.

"Hey M-bert," she sighed, hugging him back tightly. "Glad you're here."

"Of course I'm here. I wouldn't be anywhere else." He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he released her, smiling sadly. "You want anything? A soda?"

"Nu-uh," Quinn sighed, shaking her head glumly. Truthfully, there was _one_ thing she wanted—her girlfriend's presence—but she knew her mom would just say this was family time, and Grace would probably get mad, and she really had no idea how Mark would react, or if he even _knew_ about Rachel. She could get through the next few hours with her family solo…and she knew that her sweet, overly-attentive girlfriend would be checking in regularly by phone and text anyway, so if she really needed her, it wouldn't be hard to send up a signal.

They sat around fidgeting and making awkward conversation until Father Jim, the pastor from their church, arrived to give his condolences and finalize the funeral arrangements. Quinn hadn't been inside St. John's since her pregnancy, and seeing her old priest—who she'd always looked up to—suddenly appearing in her living room put her slightly on edge, as old insecurities bubbled sharply to the surface. How much did he know about her life now? Would he judge her? Would he hate her? She knew it shouldn't matter, not now as they were discussing her father's funeral arrangements; but Quinn couldn't help latching onto the smaller fears and anxieties when the alternative was to just sit around thinking about her dead father.

"Judy, the church is so sorry for your loss," Father Jim said in his gentle voice, reaching out to clasp Mrs. Fabray's hands in his wrinkled ones. "Know that the entire parish community is here for your family in your time of need."

"Thank you, Father, that's very kind," Judy smiled weakly.

"You know they got divorced, right?" The words were out of Quinn's mouth before she'd consciously decided to say them. The white-haired pastor looked up at her in mild confusion; but also with compassion.

"Quinn!" Grace rebuked her sharply.

"It's all right, Grace," Father Jim waved her off. "Yes, Quinn, I am aware of your parents' divorce. That doesn't lessen our feelings of grief when the person we made a life with dies. Surely you'd allow your mother to grieve?"

"He was an abusive drunk. He hit us. He threw me into a plate-glass coffee table once. Did you know that?"

"Quinn, stop it!" Grace yelled, her face flushing bright red as their mother looked down at the floor in shame, and Mark shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. But the priest just stood there looking into her eyes, calm and compassionate.

"Yes, I knew that too," he nodded somberly. "Your mother came to me for counseling after that terrible incident. She was concerned only with you and your feelings; just as I'm sure she is now. Your father had many faults, Quinn; he knew that, certainly, and he asked forgiveness from his heavenly Father when I gave him his last rites. He's at peace now, child. It's us left on earth who seek guidance and comfort from the Holy Spirit." Quinn snorted and shook her head angrily, running out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She curled up in the middle of her bed and screamed into her pillow until her voice gave out; then she cuddled her stuffed Appa and cried herself to sleep.

It was dark when Quinn's mom came and woke her, gently shaking her and stroking her hair until she groaned and opened her eyes. She felt congested and headachey from falling asleep crying, but even more than that, she felt ashamed of how she'd embarrassed her mom in front of the priest.

"Mom…" she murmured woozily, sitting up a little against the pillows and rubbing her eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"I know, baby. Come here." Quinn willingly collapsed in her mother's arms, breathing deeply as the heavy feeling in her chest subsided just a little. "It's all right, Quinn. Everything you're feeling is all right."

"'Kay," Quinn sniffed, hugging her mother tightly. When they pulled back, Judy reached over and flipped on the bedside light, making Quinn squint and grumble softly.

"If you're up for it, dinner's on the table. I know you might not feel like eating much, but I'd like it if you came and sat with us."

"Is Grace still mad at me?" Quinn asked, wincing at the memory of the last look her sister had given her.

"She's trying her best, Quinnie. We all are."

"Okay," Quinn nodded, with a weak smile. "I'll be down in a minute."

After her mother left, Quinn went into her school bag and pulled out her cell phone, unsurprised to see a barrage of missed calls and messages from her friends, and even more from her girlfriend. Rather than go through them all, she just hit Rachel's number on the speed dial. She picked up on the second ring.

"Quinn! Oh, baby, are you okay? I mean, obviously you're not okay, that was a stupid thing to ask. Do you need anything? Do you want me to come over? My dads said I could spend the night if you want me there…"

"I love you so much, Rachel," Quinn sighed, her eyes stinging with fresh tears as she hugged the fluffy stuffed animal her girlfriend had given her.

"I love you too, angel," the dark-haired girl replied, in a much softer voice now that she'd gotten her tirade of anxious questions out.

"I'd really, really love for you to come over, but let me ask my mom first, okay? Things are really weird here, and Grace is here with her husband, and I just don't want to stir the pot right now, you know?"

"I know," Rachel agreed sadly.

"I _do_ want you here, Rach. Like, more than anything. I'll talk to my mom and call you after dinner, okay?"

"Okay, baby. I'm sending you a big hug…did you get it?"

"Yeah," Quinn smiled unwillingly. "Thanks, dork."

"I'm not a dork," Rachel said happily, like she could hear Quinn's smile through the phone. "I'm a prom queen."

...

"Mom?" Quinn asked hesitantly after a few minutes of poking her food around her plate. "Can Rachel come over after dinner?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Judy said warmly, pointedly ignoring Grace's glare.

"_Mom,_" the older girl hissed indignantly. Judy just glared at her older daughter and pursed her lips.

"What's the matter, hon? You don't like your sister's friend?" Mark asked casually, scooping up a spoonful of potatoes. Well, that answered _that _question. Grace had obviously kept her sister's emergent sexuality a secret from her husband.

"Actually, Grace doesn't even _know_ Rachel," Quinn said coldly. "She just dislikes her on principle. Don't worry, okay? We'll stay in my room, where we can't get our cooties all over you." Quinn stood up and shoved her plate into the sink, anxious to get away from the tension in the kitchen and call her girlfriend. After she was gone, Judy Fabray leveled her older daughter with a long, hard look.

"Grace, I know this is difficult for you. But you _have_ to respect your sister's relationship. If we're going to get through this as a family, you have to start treating Rachel with the same respect Quinn has always shown Mark."

"Wait, what?" The young man frowned in obvious confusion.

"Mother!" Grace hissed, her face turning beet red.

"I'm done tiptoeing around this with you, Grace. This is a family, not a sitcom. You're going to have to decide for yourself whether you're willing to accept it and be a part of it, or not." With that, Judy stood up and calmly began clearing the dinner dishes, leaving her daughter and son-in-law looking flabbergasted at the dinner table.

When Rachel arrived at the Fabray house twenty minutes later, she was relieved not to see Quinn's sister on her way upstairs. The one meeting they'd had, when Quinn was still pregnant and Grace tried to talk her little sister into giving her the baby, had been unpleasant enough to stick firmly in the little diva's memory; and she had no desire for another screaming match tonight. Mrs. Fabray, on the other hand, gave her a perfectly pleasant smile, and even squeezed her shoulder before sending her upstairs, where she found her girlfriend curled up in bed with her stuffed Appa, already in her pajamas though it was only 8:45.

"Hey angel face," Rachel said gently, getting straight into bed beside the blonde girl and hugging her tightly. Quinn burrowed into her girlfriend's throat, and didn't say anything. They stayed that way for a few minutes, quietly cuddling with Rachel stroking Quinn's hair, until finally the dark-haired girl asked, "Is there anything, anything in the whole wide world, that I can do to make you feel a little better right now, my love?" Quinn rubbed her nose into Rachel's hair, and sighed softly.

"Will you sing me a lullaby, little star?"

"Oh, honey, of course I will," Rachel nodded happily, relief flooding through her at the thought that there was something real she could do to comfort her girlfriend. "Anything special you want to hear?"

"Just...something that will make me forget to feel sad for a little while," Quinn murmured, slipping her hand under Rachel's shirt to rest against the warm skin of her stomach, drawing comfort from the solid, skin-on-skin contact. "I just want you to wrap me up in your voice and take me somewhere else...just for a little while..."

"Okay, baby," Rachel nodded, thinking about it for a minute. Then she smiled softly, and began to sing.

Come with me  
And you'll be  
In a world of  
Pure imagination  
Take a look  
And you'll see  
Into your imagination

We'll begin  
With a spin  
Traveling in  
The world of my creation  
What we'll see  
Will defy  
Explanation

If you want to view paradise  
Simply look around and view it  
Anything you want to, do it  
Wanna change the world?  
There's nothing  
To it...

There is no  
Life I know  
To compare with  
Pure imagination  
Living there  
You'll be free  
If you truly wish to be

If you want to view paradise  
Simply look around and view it  
Anything you want to, do it  
Wanna change the world?  
There's nothing  
To it...

There is no  
Life I know  
To compare with  
Pure imagination  
Living there  
You'll be free  
If you truly  
Wish to be.

When Rachel finished singing, Quinn was fast asleep. It was a little too early for the dark-haired girl to fall asleep, too-barely 9 o'clock- but she wasn't willing to pull herself out of Quinn's arms, either, so she just reached over for the book on her girlfriend's bedside table. It was _The Great Gatsby_, which was fine with Rachel since it was their assigned reading for English class, and she easily flipped to the chapter she'd left off at in her own copy the previous night. She'd been reading quietly to herself for almost an hour, with Quinn sleeping peacefully against her, when a quiet knock sounded on the closed door.

"Girls? Can I come in?" Judy's voice was tentative through the door, and Rachel bit her lip, caught between not wanting to wake Quinn, but also not wanting Mrs. Fabray to think they were doing anything naughty that would keep them from answering.

"Yes, come in," she called as quietly as she could manage. Quinn sighed and nuzzled up against her neck, but didn't wake up. When Judy's head popped in, she smiled in obvious relief at the sight of her daughter, peacefully sleeping. "She konked out," Rachel said unnecessarily.

"I'm glad," Judy said, automatically keeping her voice as low as Rachel's. "Are you staying the night?"

"Only if it's all right with you," Rachel said cautiously. Though Quinn had stayed at _her_ house more times than she could possibly count, Rachel had only stayed at Quinn's house on a handful of occasions. Though Judy Fabray had obviously made great strides in the last year as a model PFLAG mom, it still wasn't the same as the level of comfort both girls felt at Rachel's house, where they had after all lived together and started their relationship; and the idea of acceptance had never even been in question.

"Of course it's all right with me, sweetheart. Quinn needs you right now...and I'm very grateful that you're here for her."

"I'm grateful too," Rachel said quietly, as she ran a hand through Quinn's loose blonde hair.

"I'll leave some extra towels out for you in the bathroom, all right?"

"Thank you," Rachel smiled softly. Judy nodded, returning the tentative smile, and closed the door quietly behind her on the way out.


	48. Empire State of Mind

Hey Gleeks!

So here, at last, is the final chapter of this story. But don't be sad! Season three will pick up again in the fall when the show comes back on; look for it under a separate header then (it'll be the same title, just "Season 3," so shouldn't be hard to find!). In the meantime, my summer story is already up, too, so go check that out if you haven't already! It's called **Summer Interlude: Snapshots**. Thanks for all the awesome reviews and for sticking around all the way through! Quinn and Rachel say thanks for all the attention. They're off to performing arts camp for the summer, and promise to write occasionally :)

**Take Me As I Am**

**Chapter 48 (Final)**

**By JewWitch**

...

Rachel was relieved when Quinn nodded off soon after the plane was in the air; the blonde girl had been anxious and irritable pretty much around the clock for the last week, not that it wasn't understandable given the circumstances. But the little diva hadn't given up hope that this trip- Nationals, New York City- could still be everything they'd hoped it would be a week ago, before the sudden and untimely death of Quinn's awful, abusive father had left her all knotted up inside. Besides which, Rachel still had a hit song to write, and judging by the giggly, hyperactive energy bouncing off the rest of the team, they wouldn't be much help. With a sigh, the dark-haired girl pulled out her rhyming dictionary and got to work, her girlfriend snoozing softly against her shoulder.

When the fasten seat-belts sign came on and the captain's voice announced that they were beginning their descent into JFK International Airport, Rachel was officially ready to throw her rhyming dictionary through a wall. She really hoped she'd start feeling more inspired once they were on the ground, and she had all of New York City to inspire her. For now, she just put her notebook away and turned to rouse her sleeping girlfriend, who hadn't made a peep the entire flight.

"Time to wake up and say hi to New York, angel face," Rachel murmured quietly, stroking a few stray locks of blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear and kissing her cheek.

"Mm...don't wanna stay here," Quinn mumbled, twitching as her sleep-fogged mind hovered on the edge of a dream. "Gotta go to Nationals...can't stop me...Appa, yip yip..." Rachel cracked up a little at that, tipping the sleeping girl firmly back into the waking world as she opened her eyes with a start.

"Oh...Rachel...thank God it was just a dream," the blonde girl yawned, rubbing her eyes and sitting up a little woozily.

"So you thought you'd fly on Appa to New York instead of taking the plane with the rest of us?" Rachel teased gently, stroking Quinn's hair as she yawned hugely again.

"No...well, yeah...I dreamed they wouldn't let me go to Nationals because I flunked 11th grade. Principal Figgins wouldn't let me get on the plane, but I figured it was okay 'cause I could just take Appa instead. Damn, I'm glad I didn't really flunk out..."

"You definitely didn't flunk out, baby- you're finishing top of the grade, and you're headed to be Valedictorian at this rate. It was just a stress dream...sorry I woke you right when you were getting to the good part."

"Oh, that's okay. I dream about flying on Appa all the time."

"You do?" Rachel grinned delightedly. "That is so beyond adorable..."

"Don't tell the rest of the team, okay? Santana would never stop teasing me."

"You think?" Rachel snorted, delighted at finally seeing a little smile on her girlfriend's face after a week of tears and worrisome silence. "No worries, my lips are sealed."

"Thanks, babe." Quinn's small smile relaxed into a wide, sleepy grin, and she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Rachel's warm lips. Five minutes later, they stepped off the plane and into New York City.

...

As soon as they'd landed, Mr. Schue took them straight to the hotel to work on writing their songs; and the moment he left them alone, they collectively revolted and snuck out to do some sightseeing. As the only one who was familiar with the city, Rachel delighted in her de-facto role as New Directions' official NYC tour guide, showing them around the most inspiring spots she could think of, from Washington Square Park to Lincoln Center, Times Square, Central Park, and the Brooklyn Bridge. Quinn was anxious they'd get lost at first, but Rachel made sure to show her exactly where they were going on the map before they set off for each new location, and which subway route would get them there; and soon the blonde girl was completely at ease, smiling and laughing along with the rest of the group as they ran wild around the city.

In Central Park they all got snow cones and cotton candy; and in the subway station at Union Square they saw a woman dressed as the Statue of Liberty, covered from head to toe in silver body paint, who stood so perfectly still she seemed like a _real _statue until someone put money in the box at her feet, and then she sprang to life and performed as a sort of robot-mime. They were having so much fun, they might've forgotten about their real reason for being in New York all together if not for the thirteen simultaneous text messages they got from Mr. Schue at 6pm, demanding that they get their butts back to the hotel immediately. Reluctantly, they did; but after a quick dinner of insanely delicious New York pizza and sugary Cokes, they were even more wired than ever, and an enormous pillow fight erupted in the girls' room that quickly erased any chance of songwriting for the evening.

Rachel had given up trying to restore order among her teammates and simply crawled out into the hallway with her notebook and rhyming dictionary, where she found Finn in a similar state, a few stray feathers stuck in his hair as he sat scowling over his own notebook with his back against the wall.

"Hey! Rach! Boy am I glad to see you," the tall quarterback gushed effusively, grinning from ear to ear when he saw the dark-haired girl emerge from the giggling and shrieking in the girls' room. "I think I might actually have something halfway decent here, but I could really use another set of eyes. And, I mean, we all know you're the best at this stuff anyway. Will you look at what I've got so far?"

"Of course, Finn, I'd be delighted to collaborate with you," Rachel smiled brightly, relieved that someone was actually managing to get something done in the middle of all this manic energy. She took his notebook, and glanced over the verses and basic musical notations he'd made. "You know, this is actually quite a good start," she said after a quiet moment, and Finn beamed like an oversized golden retriever. Then a loud thump and a squeal from the other side of the wall made them both wince and sigh in annoyance.

"Yeah, that keeps happening. It's pretty hard to concentrate, even out here," Finn shrugged in defeat.

"Okay, c'mon. If we're going to get a hit song out of this, we need a soothing work environment. Let's go down to the bar for a captain's meeting."

"Lead the way," Finn said happily, leaping to his feet and offering Rachel his hand. She knew, on some level, that the look he was giving her and the way he took her hand wasn't just professional...but she just couldn't worry about that _and_ Nationals _and_ writing a hit song all at once. If Finn wanted to keep on living with the delusion that he still had a shot with her, that was his business. Concentrating on the song, and the fact that the team was counting on them as captains to pull through, Rachel took Finn's hand and followed him to the elevators.

...

"You know, I think we really might have something here," Rachel beamed, as she looked over the finished song and sipped her pomegranite-lime soda (God, everything was so much better in New York) beside a beaming Finn in the hotel bar. "I'm really proud of you, Finn- wait till we show the others!"

"Well I couldn't have done it without you, Rach- we make a pretty good team, you know?" Finn said, with a nervous glint in his eye that made Rachel uneasy as she reached for her vibrating phone.

"Yes, well, I certainly concur that we've established an excellent rapport as team captains," she nodded absently, feeling her own nervous smile blossoming from the pit of her stomach as she read the new message from Quinn: _Meet me at the Bow Bridge in Central Park. Dress up. XOXO, -Q._ "Ah, yes, well, this has been a lovely evening Finn. We'll show the team your song first thing in the morning. Now it's off to bed! We must be well rested for a full day of rehearsal tomorrow, after all."

"But Rach," Finn started to whine; but he was already too late, as Rachel was out of her seat and across the room before he could get a full sentence out.

The dark-haired girl got ready in record time, giving herself a final once-over in the mirror to the approving trills of her teammates. "Dang, Thumbelina, you look all kinds of hot tonight," Santana said approvingly, tossing her ripped pillow aside to give Rachel a once-over, feathers floating gently in the air as the pillow fight finally tapered off. "Who knew you had a little Hepburn in you?"

"Thank you, Santana," Rachel smiled, looking over her hair one last time, pulled into a sleek knot at the side of her neck, then brushing a stray feather from her aqua-blue dress. "Do you think Quinn will like it?"

"Hell yeah," Lauren Zizes chimed in, grinning her increasingly Puck-like sneer of approval. "But just remember, captain hottie, you've got five roommates to consider- and that goes for you too," she added, raising an eyebrow in silent threat at Brittany and Santana. "If I can't have sexy time with my honey in here, then neither can you, got it? Fair's fair. If I wake up to the sounds of sapphic moaning and groaning tonight, I'm cracking skulls, got it?"

"Yeah yeah, take it easy Wrestlemania," Santana rolled her eyes, while Rachel blushed scarlet.

"Quinn and I would never- in mixed company- that's not- _ugh!_ You really are the girl version of Puck, Lauren!" Rachel huffed, while the others giggled and rolled their eyes at her.

"Go have fun, Mama," Mercedes said with a smile, taking Rachel's shoulders and pointing her towards the door. "Your girl's waiting for you." From the knowing smile the others all shared, Rachel had a sneaking suspicion that they knew what Quinn had planned for her; but instead of quizzing them on the details, Rachel just grinned shyly and slipped out into the warm May evening.

She found Quinn precisely in the middle of the Bow Bridge, in a stunning white dress with a baby blue sash tied around her waist. When the blonde girl turned and smiled at her, Rachel froze, her jaw dropping in astonishment at the radical change in her girlfriend's hair. It was at least eight inches shorter than it had been a few hours ago, cut in an adorably tousled bob ending just below her chin and sweeping around her face in a few different directions. Rachel just stared, wide-eyed, as she made her way to the bridge to meet her girlfriend, who was now blushing and biting her lip anxiously.

"Hey little star," the blonde girl squeaked, trying and failing to appear casual as she cocked her head to one side, a thick lock of her new, sweeping bangs falling across her eyes. "You look incredible." When a few seconds went by and Rachel didn't speak, Quinn started gnawing on her lip in earnest, wincing a little as if to brace herself for unpleasant news. "Do you hate it? I'm sorry I didn't tell you, it was just...an impulse...I just felt all jittery and I had to do something a little wild, and this was the first thing that popped into my mind, but you know it _will_ grown back eventually, and please will you just say something?"

"I can't believe you did this to me," Rachel said finally, and Quinn's eyes instantly filled with tears. Rachel grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up as she further explained, "We're stuck in a room with Brittany and Santana, Tina, Mercedes and Lauren for the _entire_ week, with absolutely no privacy whatsoever, and now all I can think about is tearing all your clothes off and making you throw your head back and scream my name about a hundred thousand times. I'm in agony."

"Really?" Quinn sniffed, her crushed expression melting slowly off her face as a shy smile began to shine through, a stray tear sliding down her cheek that Rachel caught and brushed away with her thumb.

"Oh yes," Rachel nodded, wrapping both arms around her girlfriend's neck and leaning in to kiss her, right there in front of about a hundred strangers in the middle of Central Park. And not one of them made a peep about it. _I really, really love New York_, Rachel thought dreamily, as she swirled her fingers through the short, tousled hair at the back of Quinn's neck.

They might have gone on kissing on the bridge forever (or at least, until their feet got tired in their high heels) if not for Quinn eventually breaking away to regretfully announce that they had better be going if they were going to make it to Sardi's in time for their reservation. Rachel squealed excitedly, and immediately acquiesced, and soon they were sitting in the most famous restaurant in the midtown theater district, the very birthplace of Broadway. Rachel was beside herself, rambling excitedly while Quinn just stared and her and smiled.

"Once we move here, we're never going to be able to afford going out to places like this, you know," Rachel shook her head, smiling wistfully as she looked over the menu. Just plain spaghetti in red sauce was $18.50, the cheapest thing on the menu.

"That's why I wanted to bring you here now," Quinn shrugged, swirling the straw around her club soda. "But my prediction? It'll be less than ten years till your picture's up on that wall, Rach," the blonde girl beamed, gesturing to the hundreds of framed, signed caricatures of Broadway's most famous faces lining the restaurant walls. The little diva looked up from the menu with an inscrutable expression in her dark eyes, fixed on Quinn's bright hazel gaze of adoration.

"What?" Quinn finally asked anxiously.

"I just...really love it when you dream big with me," Rachel shrugged, reaching across the table and stroking Quinn's cheek as the blonde girl blushed scarlet. "Here's to our first night out in New York City," she added, picking up her glass for a toast.

"The first of a lifetime's worth," Quinn smiled, picking up her glass and clinking it with Rachel's. The dark-haired girl smiled back, and took a sip of her drink. Then she choked on it. "Rach! Are you okay?" Quinn squeaked anxiously.

"It's Patti Lupone!" Rachel gasped, her eyes going wide as dinner plates as she stared at the legendary Broadway star across the room. "Oh my God Quinn, oh my _God_, what do I do? I have to say something. Should I say something? Kurt would kill me if I didn't say something..." The little starlet continued to ramble excitedly, waffling between saying something and not saying something, until the actress passed directly by their table. Taking this as a sign from the Universe, Rachel stood up and squared her shoulders boldly.

"Excuse me. Miss Lupone?" She said nervously, her voice a little higher and breathier than normal. "I just wanted to say that you're my idol." The older woman smiled brightly.

"Thank you, dear, you're very sweet. What's your name?"

"Rachel Berry," the younger girl squeaked.

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Rachel Berry. Are you an actress?"

"Yes- well, sort of- I'm still in high school."

"We're in town for the National show choir championships," Quinn interjected from her seat, sensing that Rachel was getting tongue-tied. The older woman's eyes lit up.

"I was in choir in high school! It was my favorite class." Rachel just beamed wordlessly. "And what about you, dear?" The actress addressed Quinn. "Are you bound for the stage as well?"

"I don't know," the blonde girl shrugged shyly. "I mean, we're both in glee together, but I don't know what I'm going to be yet; not actually. I just go where Rachel goes."

"I see," the older woman smiled knowingly. "Well, Rachel, you just promise me one thing- you'll never give up on your dream."

"Yes, Miss Lupone, I promise," Rachel nodded breathlessly.

"Good luck," Patti smiled, squeezing Rachel's hand and then Quinn's. Then, as she passed Rachel, she leaned in and murmured- "And if you can hang on to true love at the same time, you'll be light years ahead of the game." She glanced significantly at Quinn, and gave a star-struck Rachel a little wink as she walked away. Rachel just stood there smiling, her eyes out of focus, like she'd been hit in the head with something heavy.

"I love New York," she finally whispered dreamily.

...

Once the group heard the songs that Finn and, surprisingly, Mercedes, had written, their focus and energy were renewed, and they spent the rest of the week rehearsing madly, with very few distractions. Finally, all their hard work had lead them here, to this moment, and before they knew it, they were dressed and ready for the stage at their final competition of the year, for better or for worse.

"How do you feel?" Rachel asked a sweaty Finn as they stood side-by-side behind the curtain, waiting for their cue.

"I think I might puke all over the stage," Finn admitted, balling his hands into fists.

"You'll be fine," Rachel assured him, shaking her head and grinning broadly at him. "You wrote an amazing song, Finn- actually, I didn't think you had it in you. I'm very proud of you. And now we're all going to show those judges what we're made of. You have nothing to worry about, really Finn." The tall boy beamed at her, and nodded as the curtain rose, and they began to sing out to the enormous crowd.

Face to face and heart to heart  
We're so close yet so far apart  
I close my eyes I look away  
That's just because I'm not okay  
But I hold on I stay strong  
Wondering if we still belong

Will we ever say the words we're feeling  
Deep down underneath it  
Tear down all the walls  
Will we ever have a happy ending  
Or will we forever only be pretending  
We will always be pretending

How long do I fantasize  
Make believe that it's still alive  
Imagine that I am good enough  
If we can choose the ones we love  
But I hold on I stay strong  
Wondering if we still belong

Will we ever say the words we're feeling  
Deep down underneath it  
Tear down all the walls  
Will we ever have a happy ending  
Or will we forever only be pretending

Will we (oh oh) always (oh oh) be keeping secrets safe  
Every move we make  
Seems like nowhere's safe to go  
And it's such a shame  
Cuz if you feel the same  
How am I supposed to know

Will we ever say the words we're feeling  
Deep down underneath it  
Tear down all the walls  
Will we ever have a happy ending  
Or will we forever only be pretending...

When Finn's lips were suddenly crashing against Rachel's, all she could think was _I should've known_ and _don't break the choreography._ She just kept going, as the song ended and the next one immediately began over the wild applause, even though all she wanted to do was slap the dumb smile off the tall boy's face as he grabbed her hand and twirled her around as their final number began. The second number progressed smoothly without incident, and the audience was on its feet cheering when the curtain fell. The rest of the group was jumping up and down and hugging each other, but Rachel, without even pausing for a breath, marched straight over to Finn and leaned up on her tiptoes to slap him across the face.

"Rachel, I'm sorry! I just got caught up in the moment, okay? You _had_ to know I wrote that song for you. Didn't you feel something, too?" The rest of the group slowly quieted as the drama explosion caught their attention, Finn standing sheepishly in front of the furious little diva, not even trying to defend himself.

"Hasn't she been through enough this week?" Rachel hissed angrily, glaring up at the taller boy with fury in her dark eyes. Finn visibly wilted, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No matter what I do...you're always gonna be thinking about Quinn, aren't you?" He asked sadly.

"Yes, I will," Rachel replied without a moment's hesitation. Then she turned her back on him and stomped off the stage in search of her girlfriend. It didn't take long; Quinn was just in the green room with Kurt and Brittany, jumping up to give Rachel a jubilant hug as soon as they saw each other.

"Quinn, I'm so sorry about what happened out there," Rachel started to say, but Quinn just shushed her.

"Why? We were amazing, Rach. There's nothing for you to be sorry for." Quinn smiled and cocked her head to the side, beaming at her breathless and confused girlfriend.

"But, Finn...he...I let him...you're not mad?"

"Oh, come on Rach. He kissed you in the middle of the most important performance of our glee club career. What were you supposed to do? Stop the number and make a huge scene? The entire performance would've been ruined."

"Well, yeah..." Rachel frowned in obvious befuddlement, and Quinn just giggled and kissed her.

"It's okay, starlight. You were perfect. _We_ were perfect. I mean, I'm still gonna kick Finn in the nuts the next time I see him, but _you_ didn't do anything wrong. And I never doubted you for a second. Okay?" Unable to form words, Rachel just nodded happily, and threw her arms around Quinn's neck. She didn't say another word until the results were posted, and Mr. Schue sadly informed them that they'd hadn't placed in the top ten. The dark-haired girl didn't even notice that she was crying until Quinn reached out and began wiping away her tears.

"Oh, honey, please don't cry," the blonde girl begged, stroking her face and kissing away a few tears form her cheek. "We were so good, I know we were...and we've still got next year, I know we can do it after everything we've learned. It was our first time _ever_ getting to Nationals, and we have so much to be proud of, and"- but before Quinn could finish, Rachel grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her soundly.

"I'm not crying because I'm upset," Rachel shook her head, smiling softly at Quinn's befuddled expression. "You're right, you know- we _were_ awesome, and we did amazingly for our first time at Nationals, and we _will_ come back and kick butt next year."

"So...why are you crying?" Quinn asked cautiously, one eyebrow going up in confusion.

"Because no matter what else happens...even though we have to go back to Ohio tomorrow...you and I just started our life here together, Quinn. And that's forever. I just wanted to remember it." Rachel beamed, and then Quinn started to cry, too, but she was smiling through her tears.

"I'm never going to stop falling in love with you," the blonde girl sniffled happily, shaking her head in amazement.

"Promise?" The little starlet murmured, eyes sparkling as she wrapped both arms around her girlfriend's neck.

"Oh, yeah," Quinn sighed, closing her eyes as they leaned into each other and shared a sweet, soft, happily-ever-after kiss.

_...The End (for now)! Hope you enjoyed :)_


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